I  SAW  THE  LADY  AURELIA  LYING  AMONG  THE  SMASHED  UP  GEAR. 

Frontispiece.  See  p.  171 


MARTIN  HYDE 

THE  DUKE'S  MESSENGER 


BY 

JOHN  MASEFIELD 


With  Illustration*  by 
T.  C.  DUGDALE 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND    COMPANY 


Copyright,  1909, 
BY  DANA  ESTES  &  Co. 

Copyright,  1910, 
BT  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved 


ftrfntew 
8.  J.  PABKHILL  &  Co.,  BOSTON,  U.8.A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  .  PAGE 

I.  I  LEAVE  HOME 1 

II.  I  LEAVE  HOME  AGAIN 18 

III.  I  LEAVE  HOME  A  THIRD  TIME 28 

IV.  I  LEAVE  HOME  FOB  THE  LAST  TIME        ...  37 
V.  I  Go  TO  SEA 54 

VI.  THE  SEA!    THE  SEA! 70 

VII.  LAND  RATS  AND  WATER  RATS 85 

VIII.  I  MEET  MY  FRIEND 95 

IX.  I  SEE  MORE  OF  MY  FRIEND 106 

X.  SOUNDS  IN  THE  NIGHT 119 

XI.  AURELIA 132 

XII.  BRAVE  CAPTAIN  BARLOW 147 

XIII.  IT  BREEZES  UP 161 

XIV.  A  DRINK  OF  SHERBET 174 

XV.  THE  ROAD  TO  LYME 186 

XVI.  THE  LANDING 196 

XVII.  A  VOICE  AT  DAWN 207 

XVIII.  I  SPEAK  WITH  AURELIA 219 

XIX.  I  MEET  THE  CLUB  MEN 232 

XX.  THE  SQUIRE'S  HOUSE 243 

XXI.  MY  FRIEND  AURELIA  AND  HER  UNCLE    .       .       .  256 

XXII.  THE  PRIEST'S  HOLE 268 

XXIII.  FREE 281 

XXIV.  THE  END  293 


281676 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 
I    SAW    THE    LADY   AURELIA   LYING   AMONG   THE   SMASHED    UP 

GEAR          .........  Frontispiece 

THE   BOYS   WERE   STRICTLY  SEARCHED  BY  THE   CONSTABLE       .  12 

I   NIMBLY   CLIMBED   TO   MY  ROOM 32 

"SEE    HOW   MANY  YOU   CAN   EAT,"    HE  SAID          ....  54 

I    BUTTED   INTO   HIM,   SPATTERING  THE   SLUSH  ALL   OVER   HIM  71 

I  TOLD  MR.  JERMYN  ALL  THAT  I  HAD  HEARD  ....  83 

"  ON  DECK,"  HE  CRIED.    "  WE'RE  ALL  IN  A  BLAZE  FORWARD  "  91 

"  TAKE  ME  IN  QUICK,"  I  SAID.    "  THEY'RE  AFTER  ME  "        .  118 

THE  GUARDSMEN  WERE  PEERING  AT  MY  FACE  IN  THE  LANTERN 

LIGHT 134 

"  AHA,"    HE   CRIED,    WAVING   HIS   BOOTY 151 

"  A  YOUNG  LADY  WAVING  TO   YOU,"   HE   SAID   .          .          .          .183 

WE  WERE  QUITE  AS  MUCH  SCARED  TO  SEE  HIM  AS  THE  LAND- 
LORD  HAD   BEEN 187 

WE    STARED  AT  EACH  OTHER,  WHILE  HE  BLEW  A  BLAST  ON  HIS 

PAN-PIPES 199 

"  WILL  YOU  NOT  SHAKE  HANDS  WITH  ME,  MARTIN  HYDE?  "    .  257 

HlS   BACK   WAS   OF   COURSE   STILL  TOWARDS   ME           ...  278 

MY  PLACE   WAS   AT  THE   END   OF  A  LINE     .          .          .  302 


MARTIN   HYDE 

THE   DUKE'S   MESSENGER 
CHAPTER  I 

I  LEAVE  HOME 

I  WAS  born  at  Oulton,  in  Suffolk,  in  the  year  1672. 
I  know  not  the  day  of  my  birth,  but  it  was  in  March,  a 
day  or  two  after  the  Dutch  war  began.  I  know  this, 
because  my  father,  who  was  the  clergyman  at  Oulton, 
once  told  me  that  in  the  night  of  my  birth  a  horseman 
called  upon  him,  at  the  rectory,  to  ask  the  way  to 
Lowestoft.  He  was  riding  from  London  with  letters 
for  the  Admiral,  he  said;  but  had  missed  his  way  some- 
where beyond  Beccles.  He  was  mud  from  head  to  foot 
(it  had  been  a  wet  March)  but  he  would  not  stay  to  dry 
himself.  He  reined  in  at  the  door,  just  as  I  was  born, 
as  though  he  were  some  ghost,  bringing  my  life  in  his 
saddle  bags.  Then  he  shook  up  his  horse,  through  the 
mud,  towards  Lowestoft,  so  that  the  splashing  of  the 
horse's  hoofs  must  have  been  the  first  sound  heard  by 
me.  The  Admiral  was  gone  when  he  reached  Lowestoft, 
poor  man,  so  all  his  trouble  was  wasted.  War  wastes 
more  energy,  I  suppose,  than  any  other  form  of  folly. 


2  MARTIN  HYDE 

I  know  that  on  the  East  Coast,  during  all  the  years  of 
my  childhood,  this  Dutch  war  wasted  the  energies  of 
thousands.  The  villages  had  to  drill  men,  each  village 
according  to  its  size,  to  make  an  army  in  case  the  Dutch 
should  land.  Long  after  the  war  was  over,  they  drilled 
thus.  I  remember  them  on  the  field  outside  the  church, 
drilling  after  Sunday  service,  firing  at  a  stump  of  a 
tree.  Once  some  wag  rang  the  alarm-bell  at  night,  to 
fetch  them  out  of  their  beds.  Then  there  were  the 
smugglers;  they,  too,  were  caused  by  the  war.  After 
the  fighting  there  was  a  bitter  feeling  against  the  Dutch. 
Dutch  goods  were  taxed  heavily  (spice,  I  remember, 
was  made  very  dear  thus)  to  pay  for  the  war.  The 
smugglers  began  then  to  land  their  goods  secretly, 
all  along  the  coast,  so  that  they  might  avoid  the  pay- 
ment of  the  duty.  The  farmers  were  their  friends; 
for  they  liked  to  have  their  gin  cheap.  Indeed,  they 
used  to  say  that  in  an  agueish  place  like  the  fens,  gin 
was  a  necessity,  if  one  would  avoid  fever.  Often,  at 
night,  in  the  winter,  when  I  was  walking  home  from 
Lowestoft  school,  I  would  see  the  farmers  riding  to  the 
rendezvous  in  the  dark,  with  their  horses'  hoofs  all 
wrapped  up  in  sacks,  to  make  no  noise. 

I  lived  for  twelve  years  at  Oulton.  I  learned  how  to 
handle  a  boat  there,  how  to  swim,  how  to  skate,  how  to 
find  the  eggs  of  the  many  wild  fowl  in  the  reeds.  In 
those  days  the  Broad  country  was  a  very  wild  land,  half 
of  it  swamp.  My  father  gave  me  a  coracle  on  my  tenth 


I  LEAVE  HOME  3 

birthday.  In  this  little  boat  I  used  to  explore  the 
country  for  many  miles,  pushing  up  creeks  among  the 
reeds,  then  watching,  in  the  pools  (far  out  of  the  world 
it  seemed)  for  ruffs  or  wild  duck.  I  was  a  hardy  boy, 
much  older  than  my  years,  like  so  many  only  children. 
I  used  to  go  away,  sometimes,  for  two  or  three  days 
together,  with  my  friend  John  Halmer,  Captain  Hal- 
mer's  son,  taking  some  bread,  with  a  blanket  or  two, 
as  my  ship's  stores.  We  used  to  paddle  far  up  the 
Waveney  to  an  island  hidden  in  reeds.  We  were  the 
only  persons  who  knew  of  that  island.  We  were  like 
little  kings  there.  We  built  a  rough  sort  of  tent-hut 
there  every  summer.  Then  we  would  pass  the  time 
there  deliciously,  now  bathing,  now  fishing,  but  always 
living  on  what  we  caught.  John,  who  was  a  wild  lad, 
much  older  than  I,  used  to  go  among  the  gipsies  in 
their  great  winter  camp  at  Oulton.  He  learned  many 
strange  tricks  from  them.  He  was  a  good  camp-com- 
panion. I  think  that  the  last  two  years  of  my  life  at 
Oulton  were  the  happiest  years  of  my  life.  I  have 
never  cared  for  dry  or  hilly  countries  since.  Wherever 
I  have  been  in  the  world,  I  have  always  longed  for  the 
Broads,  where  the  rivers  wander  among  reeds  for  miles, 
losing  themselves  in  thickets  of  reeds.  I  have  always 
thought  tenderly  of  the  flat  land,  where  windmills 
or  churches  are  the  only  landmarks,  standing  up  above 
the  mist,  in  the  loneliness  of  the  fens.  But  when  I  was 
nearly  thirteen  years  old  (just  after  the  death  of  Charles 


4  MARTIN  HYDE 

the  Second)  my  father  died,  leaving  me  an  orphan. 
My  uncle,  Gabriel  Hyde,  a  man  about  town,  was  my 
only  relative.  The  vicar  of  Lowestoft  wrote  to  him, 
on  my  behalf.  A  fortnight  later  (the  ways  were  always 
very  foul  in  the  winter)  my  uncle's  man  came  to  fetch 
me  to  London.  There  was  a  sale  of  my  father's  furni- 
ture. His  books  were  sent  off  to  his  college  at  Cambridge 
by  the  Lowestoft  carrier.  Then  the  valet  took  me  by 
wherry  to  Norwich,  where  we  caught  a  weekly  coach 
to  town.  That  was  the  last  time  I  ever  sailed  on  the 
Waveney  as  a  boy,  that  journey  to  Norwich.  When  I 
next  saw  the  Broads,  I  was  a  man  of  thirty-five.  I 
remember  how  strangely  small  the  country  seemed  to  me 
when  I  saw  it  after  my  wanderings.  But  this  is  away 
from  my  tale.  All  that  I  remember  of  the  coach-ride 
was  my  arrival  late  at  night  at  the  London  inn,  a  dark 
house  full  of  smells,  from  which  the  valet  led  me  to 
my  uncle's  house. 

I  lay  awake,  that  first  night,  much  puzzled  by  the 
noise,  fearing  that  London  would  be  all  streets,  a  dismal 
place.  When  I  fell  asleep,  I  was  waked  continually  by 
chiming  bells.  In  the  morning,  early,  I  was  roused 
by  the  musical  calling  made  by  milkmen  on  their 
rounds,  with  that  morning's  milk  for  sale.  At  breakfast 
my  uncle  told  me  not  to  go  into  the  street  without 
Ephraim,  his  man;  for  without  a  guide,  he  said,  I 
should  get  lost.  He  warned  me  that  there  were  people 
in  London  who  made  a  living  by  seizing  children  ("  kid- 


I  LEAVE  HOME  5 

napping  "  or  "  trepanning  "  them,  as  it  was  called)  to 
sell  to  merchant-captains  bound  for  the  plantations. 
"So  be  very  careful,  Martin,"  he  said.  "Do  not  talk 
to  strangers."  He  went  for  his  morning  walk  after 
this,  telling  me  that  I  might  run  out  to  play  in  the 
garden. 

I  went  out  of  doors  feeling  that  London  must  be  a 
very  terrible  place,  if  the  folk  there  went  about  counting 
all  who  met  them  as  possible  enemies.  I  was  homesick 
for  the  Broads,  where  everybody,  even  bad  men,  like 
the  worst  of  the  smugglers,  was  friendly  to  me.  I 
hated  all  this  noisy  city,  so  full  of  dirty  jumbled  houses. 
I  longed  to  be  in  my  coracle  on  the  Waveney,  paddling 
along  among  the  reeds,  chucking  pebbles  at  the  water- 
rats.  But  when  I  went  out  into  the  garden  I  found  that 
even  London  held  something  for  me,  not  so  good  as  the 
Broads,  perhaps,  but  pleasant  in  its  way. 

Now  before  I  go  further,  I  must  tell  you  that  my 
uncle's  house  was  one  of  the  old  houses  in  Billingsgate. 
It  stood  in  a  narrow,  crowded  lane,  at  the  western 
end  of  Thames  Street,  close  to  the  river.  Few  of  the 
houses  thereabouts  were  old;  for  the  fire  of  Lon- 
don had  nearly  destroyed  that  part  of  the  city,  but 
my  uncle's  house,  with  a  few  more  in  the  same  lane; 
being  built  of  brick,  had  escaped.  The  bricks  of  some 
of  the  houses  were  scorched  black.  I  remember,  also, 
at  the  corner  house,  three  doors  from  my  uncle's  house, 
the  melted  end  of  a  water  pipe,  hanging  from  the  roof 


6  MARTIN  HYDE 

like  a  long  leaden  icicle,  just  as  it  had  run  from  the 
heat  eighteen  years  before.  I  used  to  long  for  that  icicle: 
it  would  have  made  such  fine  bullets  for  my  sling.  I 
have  said  that  Fish  Lane,  where  my  uncle  lived,  was 
narrow.  It  was  very  narrow.  The  upper  stories  of  the 
houses  opposite  could  be  touched  from  my  bed-room 
window  with  an  eight-foot  fishing  rod.  If  one  leaned 
well  out,  one  could  see  right  into  their  upper  rooms. 
You  could  even  hear  the  people  talking  in  them. 

At  the  back  of  the  house  there  was  a  garden  of  pot- 
herbs. It  sloped  down  to  the  river-bank,  where  there 
were  stairs  to  the  water.  The  stairs  were  coveredvin, 
so  as  to  form  a  boat-house,  in  which  (as  I  learned  after- 
wards) my  uncle's  skiffs  were  kept.  You  may  be  sure 
that  I  lost  no  time  in  getting  down  to  the  water,  after 
I  had  breakfasted  with  my  uncle,  on  the  morning  after 
my  arrival. 

A  low  stone  parapet,  topped  by  iron  rails,  shut  off 
the  garden  from  the  beach.  Just  beyond  the  parapet, 
within  slingshot,  as  I  soon  proved,  was  the  famous  Pool 
of  London,  full  of  ships  of  all  sorts,  some  with  flags 
flying.  The  mild  spring  sun  (it  was  early  in  April) 
made  the  sight  glorious.  There  must  have  been  a 
hundred  ships  there,  all  marshalled  in  ranks,  at  double- 
moorings,  head  to  flood.  Boats  full  of  merchandise 
were  pulling  to  the  wharves  by  the  Custom  House. 
Men  were  working  aloft  on  the  yards,  bending  or  un- 
bending sails.  In  some  ships  the  sails  hung  loose, 


I  LEAVE  HOME  7 

drying  in  the  sun.  In  others,  the  men  were  singing  out 
as  they  walked  round  the  capstan,  hoisting  goods  from 
the  hold.  One  of  the  ships  close  to  me  was  a  beautiful 
little  Spanish  schooner,  with  her  name  La  Reina  in 
big  gold  letters  on  her  transom.  She  was  evidently 
one  of  those  very  fast  fruit  boats,  from  the  Canary 
Islands,  of  which  I  had  heard  the  seamen  at  Oulton 
speak.  She  was  discharging  oranges  into  a  lighter, 
when  I  first  saw  her.  The  sweet,  heavy  smell  of  the 
bruised  peels  scented  the  river  for  many  yards. 

I  was  looking  at  this  schooner,  wishing  that  I  could 
pass  an  hour  in  her  hold,  among  those  delicious  boxes, 
when  a  bearded  man  came  on  deck  from  her  cabin. 
He  looked  at  the  shore,  straight  at  myself  as  I  thought, 
raising  his  hand  swiftly  as  though  to  beckon  me  to 
him.  A  boat  pushed  out  instantly,  in  answer  to  the 
hand,  from  the  garden  next  to  the  one  in  which  I  stood. 
The  waterman,  pulling  to  the  schooner,  talked  with  the 
man  for  a  moment,  evidently  settling  the  amount  of  his 
fare.  After  the  haggling,  my  gentleman  climbed  into 
the  boat  by  a  little  rope-ladder  at  the  stern.  Then  the 
boatman  pulled  away  upstream,  going  on  the  last  of 
the  flood,  within  twenty  yards  of  where  I  stood. 

I  had  watched  them  idly,  attracted,  in  the  beginning, 
by  that  sudden  raising  of  the  hand.  But  as  they  passed 
me,  there  came  a  sudden  puff  of  wind,  strong  enough 
to  flurry  the  water  into  wrinkles.  It  lifted  the  gentle- 
man's hat,  so  that  he  saved  it  only 'by  a  violent  snatch 


8  MARTIN  HYDE 

which  made  the  boat  rock.  As  he  jammed  the  hat 
down  he  broke  or  displaced  some  string  or  clip  near 
his  ears.  At  any  rate  his  beard  came  adrift  on  the  side 
nearest  to  me.  The  man  was  wearing  a  false  beard. 
He  remedied  the  matter  at  once,  very  cleverly,  so  that 
I  may  have  been  the  only  witness;  but  I  saw  that  the 
boatman  was  in  the  man's  secret,  whatever  it  was.  He 
pulled  hard  on  his  starboard  oar,  bringing  the  boat 
partly  across  the  current,  thus  screening  him  from  every- 
body except  the  workers  in  the  ships.  It  must  have 
seemed  to  all  who  saw  him  that  he  was  merely  pulling 
to  another  arch  of  London  Bridge. 

I  was  not  sure  of  the  man's  face.  It  seemed  handsome; 
that  was  all  that  I  could  say  of  it.  But  I  was  fascinated 
by  the  mystery.  I  wondered  why  he  was  wearing  a 
false  beard.  I  wondered  what  he  was  doing  in  the 
schooner.  I  imagined  all  sorts  of  romantic  plots  in 
which  he  was  taking  part.  I  watched  his  boat  go 
through  the  Bridge  with  the  feeling  that  I  was  sharing 
in  all  sorts  of  adventures  already.  There  was  a  fall 
of  water  at  the  Bridge  which  made  the  river  dangerous 
there  even  on  a  flood  tide.  I  could  see  that  the  waves 
there  would  be  quite  enough  for  such  a  boat  without 
the  most  tender  handling.  I  watched  to  see  how  they 
would  pass  through.  Both  men  stood  up,  facing  for- 
wards, each  taking  an  oar.  They  worked  her  through, 
out  of  sight,  in  a  very  clever  fashion;  which  set  me 
wondering  again  what  this  handsome  gentleman  might 


I  LEAVE  HOME  9 

be,  who  worked  a  boat  so  well.  I  hung  about  at  the  end 
of  the  garden  until  dinner  time,  hoping  that  they  would 
return.  I  watched  every  boat  which  came  downstream, 
finding  a  great  pleasure  in  the  watermen's  skill,  for 
indeed  the  water  at  the  Bridge  was  frightful;  only  a 
strong  nerve  could  venture  on  it.  But  the  boat  did  not 
come  back,  though  one  or  two  other  boats  brought 
people,  or  goods,  to  the  stairs  of  the  garden  beside  me. 
I  could  not  see  into  the  garden;  that  party  wall  was 
too  high. 

I  did  not  go  indoors  again  till  Ephraim  came  to  fetch 
me,  saying  that  it  was  time  I  washed  my  hands  for 
dinner.  I  went  to  my  room;  but  instead  of  washing 
my  hands,  I  leaned  out  of  the  window  to  watch  a  dancing 
bear  which  was  sidling  about  in  the  lane,  just  below, 
while  his  keeper  made  a  noise  on  the  pan-pipes.  A 
little  crowd  of  idlers  was  gathered  round  the  bear. 
Some  of  them  were  laughing  at  the  bear,  some  at  his 
keeper.  I  saw  two  boys  sneaking  about  among  the 
company;  they  were  evil-looking  little  ruffians,  with 
that  hard  look  in  the  eyes  which  always  marks  the 
thoroughly  wicked.  As  I  watched,  one  of  them  slipped 
his  hand  into  a  man's  pocket,  then  withdrew  it,  passing 
something  swiftly  to  his  companion,  who  walked  un- 
concernedly away.  I  ran  out  of  doors  at  once,  to  the 
man  who  had  been  robbed. 

"  Sir,"  I  said,  when  he  had  drawn  away  from  the  little 
crowd.  "  Have  you  not  been  robbed  of  something?  " 


10  MARTIN  HYDE 

He  turned  to  look  down  on  me,  searching  his  pockets 
with  both  hands.  It  gave  me  a  start  to  see  him,  for  he 
was  the  bearded  man  who  had  passed  me  in  the  boat 
that  morning.  You  may  be  sure  that  I  took  a  good 
note  of  him.  He  was  a  handsome,  melancholy-looking 
man,  with  a  beard  designed  to  make  him  look  fairer  than 
he  really  was. 

"  Robbed  of  something?  "  he  repeated  in  a  quiet  voice. 
"  Yes,  I  have  been  robbed  of  something."  It  seemed  to 
me  that  he  turned  pale,  when  he  found  that  he  had  been 
robbed.  "  Did  you  see  it?  "  he  asked.  "  Don't  point. 
Just  describe  him  to  me.  No.  Don't  look  round,  boy. 
Tell  me  without  looking  round." 

"  Sir,"  I  said,  "  do  you  see  two  little  boys  moving 
about  among  the  people  there?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said. 

"  It's  the  boy  with  the  bit  of  broken  pipe  in  his  hat 
who  has  the,  whatever  it  was,  sir,  I'm  sure.  I  saw  it  all." 

"  I  see,"  he  said.  "  That's  the  coverer.  Let  this  be 
a  warning  to  you,  boy,  never  to  stop  in  a  crowd  to 
watch  these  street-performers.  Where  were  you,  when 
you  saw  it?  " 

"  Up  above  there,  sir.    In  that  house. 

"  In  Mr.  Hyde's  house.    Do  you  live  there?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Since  when?    Not  for  long,  surely?  " 

"No,  sir.  Only  since  yesterday.  I'm  Mr.  Hyde's 
nephew." 


I  LEAVE  HOME  11 

"Ah!    Indeed.    And  that  is  your  room  up  there?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  then?  You've  not  been 
in  town  before.  What  is  your  father?  " 

"  My  father's  dead,  sir.  I  come  from  Oulton.  My 
father  was  rector  there." 

"  Ah,"  he  said  quietly.  "  Now  give  this  penny  to  the 
bear- ward." 

While  I  was  giving  the  penny  to  the  keeper,  the 
strange  man  edged  among  the  lookers-on,  apparently 
watching  the  bear's  antics,  till  he  was  just  behind  the 
pickpocket's  accomplice.  Watching  his  time,  he  seized 
the  boy  from  behind  by  both  wrists. 

"  This  boy's  a  pickpocket,"  he  cried  aloud.  "  Stop 
that  other  boy.  He's  an  accomplice."  The  other  boy, 
who  had  just  taken  a  purse,  started  to  run,  letting  the 
booty  drop.  A  boatman  who  was  going  towards  the 
river,  tripped  him  up  with  an  oar  so  that  he  fell 
heavily.  He  lay  still  where  he  had  fallen  (all  the  wind 
was  knocked  out  of  him)  so  that  he  was  easily  secured. 
The  boy  who  had  been  seized  by  the  bearded  man  made 
no  attempt  to  get  away.  He  was  too  firmly  held.  Both 
boys  were  then  marched  off  to  the  nearest  constable 
where  (after  a  strict  search),  they  were  locked  into  a 
cellar  till  the  morrow.  The  crowd  deserted  the  bear- 
ward  when  the  cry  of  pickpockets  was  raised.  They 
followed  my  mysterious  friend  to  the  constable's  house, 
hoping,  no  doubt,  that  they  would  be  able  to  crowd  in 


12  MARTIN  HYDE 

to  hear  the  constable  bully  the  boys  as  he  searched  them, 
One  or  two,  who  pretended  to  have  missed  things, 
managed  to  get  in.  The  bearded  man  told  me  to  come 
in,  as  he  said  that  I  should  be  needed  as  a  witness. 
The  others  were  driven  out  into  the  street,  where,  I 
suppose,  their  monkey-minds  soon  found  other  game, 
a  horse  fallen  down,  or  a  drunken  woman  in  the  gutter, 
to  divert  their  idleness.  Such  sights  seem  to  attract 
a  London  crowd  at  once. 

The  boys  were  strictly  searched  by  the  constable.  The 
booty  from  their  pockets  was  turned  out  upon  the  table. 

"Now,  sir,"  said  the  constable  to  the  bearded  man, 
after  he  had  made  a  note  of  my  story.  "  What  is  it 
they  'ad  of  you,  sir?  " 

"A  shagreen  leather  pocket-book,"  said  the  man. 
"  There  it  is." 

"  This  one?  "  said  the  constable. 

"Yes." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  constable,  opening  the  clasps,  so 
that  he  could  examine  the  writing  on  the  leaves. 
"  What's  inside?  " 

"  A  lot  of  figures,"  said  the  man.  "  Sums.  Problems 
in  arithmetic." 

"  Right,"  said  the  constable,  handing  over  the  book. 
"  Here  you  are,  sir.  -What  name,  sir?  " 

"  Edward  Jermyn." 

"  Edward  German,"  the  constable  repeated.  "  Where 
d'  you  live,  sir?  " 


THE    BOYS    WERE    STRICTLY    SEARCHED    BY    THE    CONSTABLE. 

Page  12 


I  LEAVE  HOME  13 

"  At  Mr.  Scott's  in  Fish  Lane." 

"  Right,  sir,"  said  the  constable,  writing  down  the 
address,  "  You  must  appear  tomorrow  at  ten  before  Mr. 
Gatty  the  magistrate.  You,  too,  young  master,  to 
give  your  evidence." 

At  this  the  boys  burst  out  crying,  begging  us  not  to 
appear,  using  all  those  deceptive  arts  which  the  London 
thieves  practise  from  childhood.  I,  who  was  new  to 
the  world's  deceits,  was  touched  to  the  marrow  by  their 
seeming  misery.  The  constable  roughly  silenced  them. 

"  I  know  you,"  he  said.  "  I  'ad  my  eye  on  you  two  ever 
since  Christmas.  Now  you'll  go  abroad  to  do  a  bit  of 
honest  work,  instead  of  nickin'  pockets.  Stow  your 
blubbing  now,  or  I'll  give  you  Mogador  Jack."  He 
produced  "  Mogador  Jack,"  a  supple  shark's  backbone, 
from  behind  the  door.  The  tears  stopped  on  the  instant. 

After  this,  the  bearded  man  showed  me  the  way 
back  to  Fish  Lane,  where  Ephraim  (who  was  at  the 
door,  looking  out  for  me)  gave  me  a  shrewd  scolding, 
for  venturing  out  without  a  guide.  Mr.  Jermyn  si- 
lenced him  by  giving  him  a  shilling. 

The  next  day,  Mr.  Jermyn  took  me  to  the  magis- 
trate's house,  where  the  two  thieves  were  formally 
committed  for  trial.  Mr.  Jermyn  told  me  that  they 
would  probably  be  transported  for  seven  years,  on 
conviction  at  the  Assizes;  but  that,  as  they  were  young, 
the  honest  work  abroad,  in  the  plantations,  might  be 
the  saving  of  them.  "  So  do  not  be  so  sad,  Mr.  Martin," 


14  MARTIN  HYDE 

he  said.  "  You  do  not  know  how  good  a  thing  you  did 
when  you  looked  out  of  the  window  yesterday.  Do 
you  know,  by  the  way,  how  much  my  book  is  worth?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  I  said. 

"  Well.  It's  worth  more  than  the  King's  crown," 
he  said. 

"  But  I  thought  it  was  only  sums,  sir." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  with  a  strange  smile.  "  But  some 
sums  have  to  do  with  a  great  deal  of  money.  Now  I 
want  you  to  think  tonight  of  something  to  the  value  of 
twenty  pounds  or  so.  I  want  to  give  you  something 
as  a  reward  for  your  smartness.  Don't  decide  at  once. 
Think  it  over.  Here  we  are  at  our  homes,  you  see.  We 
live  just  opposite  to  each  other." 

We  were  standing  at  this  moment  in  the  narrow  lane 
at  my  uncle's  door.  As  he  spoke,  he  raised  his  hand  in 
a  farewell  salute  with  that  dignity  of  gesture  which  was 
in  all  his  movements.  On  the  instant,  to  my  surprise,j 
the  door  of  the  house  opposite  opened  slowly,  till  it 
was  about  half  open.  No  one  opened  it,  as  I  could  see; 
it  swung  back  of  itself.  After  my  friend  had  stepped 
across  the  threshold  it  swung  to  with  a  click  in  the  same 
mysterious  way.  It  was  as  though  it  had  a  knowledge 
of  Mr.  Jermyn's  mind,  as  though  the  raised  hand  had  had 
a  magical  power  over  it.  When  I  went  indoors  to  my 
uncle's  house  I  was  excited.  I  felt  that  I  was  in  the  pres- 
ence of  something  romantic,  something  mysterious.  I 
liked  Mr.  Jermyn.  He  had  been  very  kind  But  I  kept 


I  LEAVE  HOME  15 

wondering  why  he  wore  a  false  beard,  why  his  door 
opened  so  mysteriously,  why  he  valued  a  book  of  sums 
above  the  worth  of  a  King's  crown.  As  for  his  offer  of 
a  present,  I  did  not  like  it,  though  he  had  not  given  me 
time  to  say  as  much.  I  remembered  how  indignant  the 
Oulton  wherrymen  had  been  when  a  gentleman  offered 
them  money  for  saving  his  daughter's  life.  I  had  seen 
the  man  robbed,  what  else  could  I  have  done?  I  could 
have  done  no  less  than  tell  him.  I  resolved  that  I 
would  refuse  the  gift  when  next  I  saw  him. 

At  dinner  that  day,  I  was  full  of  Mr.  Jermyn,  much 
to  my  uncle's  annoyance. 

"Who  is  this  Mr.  Jermyn,  Martin?"  he  asked.  "I 
don't  know  him.  Is  he  a  gentleman?  " 

"  Yes,  uncle." 

"  Do  you  know  him,  Ephraim?  " 

"  No,  sir.  I  know  him  by  sight,  sir.  Gentleman  who 
lives  over  the  way,  Mr.  Hyde." 

"That's  Mr.  Scott's,  though." 

"No,  sir.  Mr.  Jermyn's  been  there  ever  since  Feb- 
ruary." 

"  But  the  house  is  empty." 

"  The  lower  floor  is  furnished,  sir." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  him?  Do  you  know  his 
man?  " 

"  They  say  he's  in  the  fruit  way,  sir.  In  the  Spanish 
trade.  His  men  are  Spaniards.  They  do  say  he's  not 
quite  to  be  trusted." 


16  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Who  says  this?  "  my  uncle  asked. 

"  I  don't  like  to  mention  names,  sir,"  Ephraim  said. 

"  Quite  right.    Quite  right.    But  what  do  they  say?  " 

"Very  queer  things  goes  on  in  that  'ouse,"  said 
Ephraim.  "  I  don't  'ardly  like  to  say.  But  they  think 
'e  raises  the  devil,  sir.  Awful  noises  goes  on  there. 
I  seen  some  things  myself  there,  as  I  don't  like  to  talk 
of.  Well.  I  saw  a  black  bird  as  big  as  a  man  stand 
flapping  in  the  window.  Then  I  seen  eyes  glaring  out 
at  the  door.  They  give  the  'ouse  a  bad  name,  sir; 
everyone." 

"  H'm,"  said  my  uncle.  "  What's  he  like,  Martin, 
this  Mr.  Jermyn?  " 

"  A  tall  man,  with  a  beard,"  I  answered.  I  thought 
it  wrong  to  mention  that  I  knew  the  beard  to  be  false. 
"  He's  always  stroking  the  bridge  of  his  nose  with  his 
hand." 

"Ha,"  my  uncle  said,  as  though  recognizing  the 
trait.  "  But  with  a  beard,  you  tell  me?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.    With  a  beard." 

"  H'm,"  he  answered,  musing,  "  I  must  have  a  look 
at  this  Mr.  Jermyn.  Remember,  Martin,  you're  to 
have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him,  till  I  know  a  little 
more  of  what  he  is.  You  understand?  " 

"  Yes,  uncle." 

"  One  cannot  be  too  careful  in  this  town.  I  won't 
allow  you  in  the  streets,  Martin.  No  matter  who  has 
his  pockets  picked.  I  told  you  that  before." 


I  LEAVE  HOME  17 

"  Please,  uncle,  may  I  go  on  the  river,  then,  if  I'm 
not  to  go  into  the  street?  I'm  used  to  boats." 

"  Yes.  You  may  do  that.  But  you're  not  to  go  on 
board  the  ships,  mind." 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  Ephraim  put  in.  "  The  fall  at  the 
Bridge  is  very  risky,  sir." 

"  Is  it?  "  said  my  uncle,  testily.  "  Then  of  course 
you  can't  go  hi  a  boat,  Martin.  You  must  play  in  the 
garden,  or  read." 


CHAPTER  II 

I  LEAVE   HOME   AGAIN 

I  THOUGHT  Ephraim  a  pig  for  putting  in  that  word 
about  the  fall.  Though  I  had  only  known  Ephraim 
for  a  few  days  I  disliked  him  perhaps  as  much  as  he 
disliked  me.  He  was  angry  (I  could  feel  it)  at  having  a 
boy  in  the  house,  after  many  years  of  quiet  alone  with 
my  uncle.  I  know  that  when  he  had  occasion  to  speak 
to  me,  he  always  went  away  muttering  about  my  being 
a  chanty  brat  who  ought  to  be  in  the  poor-house.  Still, 
like  most  servants,  he  vented  most  of  his  malice  in- 
directly, as  in  this  hint  of  his  about  the  river.  I  rose 
up  from  the  dinner- table  full  of  rebellion.  I  would  go 
on  the  river,  I  said  to  myself,  fall  or  no  fall.  I  would  see 
more  of  Mr.  Jermyn,  too.  I  would  find  out  what  went 
on  in  that  house.  I  would  find  out  everything.  In  all 
this,  of  course,  I  was  very  wrong,  but  having  made  sure 
that  I  was  being  treated  unjustly  I  felt  that  I  was  only 
doing  right  in  rebelling.  So  after  waiting  till  Ephraim 
was  in  the  pantry,  washing  up  the  dinner-things  with 
the  housemaid,  I  slipped  down  the  garden  to  the  boat- 
house.  The  door  was  padlocked,  as  I  had  feared;  but 
with  an  old  hammer-head  I  managed  to  pry  off  the 


I  LEAVE  HOME  AGAIN  19 

staple.  I  felt  like  a  burglar  when  the  lock  came  off  in 
my  hand.  I  felt  that  I  was  acting  deceitfully.  Then 
the  thought  of  Ephraim  came  over  me,  making  me 
rebellious  to  my  finger-tips.  I  would  go  on  the  river, 
I  said  to  myself,  I  would  go  aboard  all  the  ships  in  the 
Pool.  I  would  show  them  all  that  I  could  handle  a 
boat  anywhere.  So  in  a  moment  my  good  angel  was 
beaten.  I  was  in  the  boat-house,  prying  at  the  staple 
of  the  outer  door,  like  the  young  rogue  that  I  was. 
Well,  I  paid  a  heavy  price  for  that  day  of  disobedience. 
It  was  the  most  dearly  bought  day's  row  I  ever  heard 
of. 

It  took  me  a  few  moments  to  open  the  outer  door. 
Then,  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure,  such  as  only  those  who 
love  the  water  can  feel,  I  thrust  out  into  the  river, 
on  to  the  last  of  tKe  ebb,  then  fast  ebbing.  The  fall 
under  the  bridge  at  that  state  of  the  tide  was  truly 
terrifying.  It  roared  so  loudly  that  I  could  hear  nothing 
else.  It  boiled  about  the  bridge  piers  so  fiercely  that 
I  was  scared  to  see  it.  I  had  seen  the  sea  in  storm; 
but  then  one  does  not  put  to  sea  in  a  storm.  This  water- 
fall tumbled  daily,  even  in  a  calm.  I  shuddered  to 
think  of  small  boats,  caught  in  the  current  above  it, 
being  drawn  down,  slowly  at  first,  then  with  a  whirl, 
till  all  was  whelmed  in  the  tumble  below  the  arches. 
I  saw  how  hatefully  the  back  wash  seemed  to  saunter 
back  to  the  fall  along  the  banks.  I  thought  that  if  I 
was  not  careful  I  might  be  caught  in  the  back  wash, 


20  MARTIN  HYDE 

drawn  slowly  along  it  by  the  undertow,  till  the  cataract 
sank  me.  As  I  watched  the  fall,  fascinated,  yet  scared 
by  it,  there  came  a  shooting  rush,  with  shouts  of  triumph. 
A  four-oared  wherry  with  two  passengers  shot  through 
the  arch  over  the  worst  of  the  water  into  the  quiet  of 
the  midstream.  They  waved  to  me,  evidently  very 
pleased  with  their  exploit.  That  set  me  wondering 
whether  the  water  were  really  as  bad  as  it  looked. 
My  first  feat  was  to  back  up  cautiously  almost  to  the 
fall,  till  my  boat  was  dancing  so  vigorously  that  I  was 
spattered  all  over.  Standing  up  in  the  boat  there,  I 
could  see  the  oily  water,  like  a  great  arched  snake's 
back,  swirl  past  the  arch  towards  me,  bubbleless, 
almost  without  a  ripple,  till  it  showed  all  its  teeth  at 
once  in  breaking  down.  The  piers  of  the  arches  jutted 
far  out  below  the  fall,  like  pointed  islands.  I  was  about 
to  try  to  climb  on  to  the  top  of  one  from  the  boat,  a  piece 
of  madness  which  would  probably  have  ended  in  my 
death,  but  some  boys  in  one  of  the  houses  on  the  bridge 
began  to  pelt  me  with  pebbles,  so  that  I  had  to  sheer  off. 
I  pulled  down  among  the  shipping,  examining  every 
vessel  in  the  Pool.  Then  I  pulled  down  stream,  with 
the  ebb,  as  far  as  Wapping,  where  I  was  much  shocked 
by  the  sight  of  the  pirates'  gallows,  with  seven  dead 
men  hung  in  chains  together  there,  for  taking  the  ship 
Delight,  so  a  waterman  told  me,  on  the  Guinea  Coast, 
the  year  before.  I  left  my  boat  at  Wapping  Stairs, 
while  I  went  into  a  pastry-cook's  shop  to  buy  cake; 


I  LEAVE  HOME  AGAIN  21 

for  I  was  now  hungry.  The  pastry-cook  was  also  a 
vintner.  His  tables  were  pretty  well  crowded  with  men, 
mostly  seafaring  men,  who  were  drinking  wine  together, 
talking  of  politics.  I  knew  nothing  whatever  about 
politics,  but  hearing  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  named  I 
pricked  up  my  ears  to  listen.  My  father  had  told  me, 
in  his  last  illness,  when  the  news  of  the  death  of  Charles 
the  Second  reached  us,  that  trouble  would  come  to 
England  through  this  Duke,  because,  he  said,  "  he 
will  never  agree  with  King  James."  Many  people 
(the  Duke  himself  being  one  of  them)  believed  that 
this  James  Scott,  Duke  of  Monmouth,  was  the  son 
of  a  very  beautiful  woman  by  Charles  the  Second, 
who  (so  the  tale  went)  had  married  her  in  his  wander- 
ings abroad,  while  Cromwell  ruled  in  England  here. 
I  myself  shall  ever  believe  this  story.  I  am  quite  sure, 
now,  in  my  own  mind,  that  Monmouth  was  our  rightful 
King.  I  have  heard  accounts  of  this  marriage  of  Charles 
the  Second  from  people  who  were  with  him  in  his 
wanderings.  When  Charles  the  Second  died  (being 
poisoned,  some  said,  by  his  brother  James,  who  wished 
to  seize  the  throne  while  Monmouth  was  abroad,  unable 
to  claim  his  rights)  James  succeeded  to  the  crown.  At 
the  time  of  which  I  write  he  had  been  King  for  about 
two  months.  I  did  not  know  anything  about  his  merits 
as  a  King;  but  hearing  the  name  of  Monmouth  I  felt 
sure,  from  the  first,  that  I  should  hear  more  of  what  my 
father  had  told  me. 


22  MARTIN  HYDE 

One  of  the  seamen,  a  sour-looking,  pale-faced  man, 
was  saying  that  Holland  was  full  of  talk  that  the  Duke 
was  coming  over,  to  try  for  the  Kingdom.  Another 
said  that  it  wasn't  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  but  the  Duke 
of  Argyle  that  was  coming,  to  try,  not  for  England, 
but  for  Scotland.  A  third  said  that  all  this  was  talk, 
for  how  could  a  single  man,  without  twenty  friends 
hi  the  world,  get  through  a  cruising  fleet?  "  How  could 
he  do  anything,  even  if  he  did  land?  " 

"  Ah,"  said  another  man.  "  They  say  that  the  West 
is  ready  to  rally  round  him.  That's  what  they  say." 

"  Well,"  said  the  first,  raising  his  cup.  "  Here's  to 
King  James,  I  say.  England's  had  enough  of  civil 
troubles. "  The  other  men  drank  the  toast  with  applause. 
It  is  curious  to  remember  how  cautious  people  were  in 
those  troublous  days.  One  could  never  be  sure  of  your 
friend's  true  opinion.  It  was  a  time  when  there  were 
so  many  spies  abroad  that  everybody  was  suspicious 
of  his  neighbour.  I  am  sure  that  a  good  half  of  that 
company  was  disloyal;  yet  they  drank  that  toast, 
stamping  their  feet,  as  though  they  would  have  shed 
their  blood  for  King  James  with  all  the  pleasure  in  life. 
"  Are  you  for  King  James,  young  waterman  ?  "  said 
one  of  the  men  to  me.  "  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  am  for  the 
rightful  King."  At  this  they  all  laughed.  One  of  the 
men  said  that  if  there  were  many  like  me  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth  might  spare  himself  the  trouble  of  coming 
over. 


I  LEAVE  HOME  AGAIN  23 

I  finished  my  cake  quietly,  after  that.  Then,  as  the 
tide  was  not  yet  making,  to  help  me  back  up  the  river, 
I  wandered  into  Wapping  fields,  where  a  gang  of  beggars 
camped.  They  were  a  dirtier,  more  troublesome  com- 
pany than  the  worst  of  the  Oulton  gipsies.  They 
crowded  round  me,  whining  about  their  miseries,  with 
the  fawning  smiles  of  professional  beggars.  There  were 
children  among  them  who  lied  about  their  wants  as 
glibly  as  their  parents  lied.  The  Oulton  beggars  had 
taught  me  to  refuse  such  people,  as  being,  nearly  always, 
knaves;  so  I  said  that  I  had  nothing  for  them.  I  felt 
the  hands  of  these  thieves  lightly  feeling  the  outsides 
of  my  pockets  for  something  worth  taking.  One  of 
them  with  a  sudden  thrust  upon  me  snatched  my 
handkerchief.  He  tossed  it  to  a  friend.  As  he  started 
to  run  from  me,  a  young  man  with  an  evil,  weak  face 
pushed  me  backwards  with  a  violent  shove.  I  staggered 
back,  from  the  push,  to  fall  over  a  boy  who  had  crouched 
behind  me  there,  ready  to  upset  me.  When  I  got  up, 
rather  shaken  from  my  fall,  the  dirty  gang  was  scattering 
to  its  burrow;  for  they  lived,  like  beasts,  in  holes 
scratched  in  the  ground,  thatched  over  with  sacks  or 
old  clothes.  I  hurried  back  towards  Wapping  in  the 
hope  of  finding  a  constable  to  recover  my  handkerchief 
for  me.  The  constable  (when  I  found  him)  refused  to 
stir  until  I  made  it  worth  his  while.  Sixpence  was  his 
fee,  he  said,  but  he  was  sure  that  a  handsome  young 
gentleman  like  myself  would  not  grudge  a  sixpence  to 


24  MARTIN  HYDE 

recover  a  handkerchief.  On  searching  for  my  purse 
(in  which  I  had  about  two  shillings)  I  found  that  that 
had  gone,  too,  "  nicked  "  by  these  thieves.  I  told  the 
constable  that  my  purse  had  been  stolen. 

"  Oh,"  he  said.  "  How  much  was  in  it?  "  I  told 
him. 

"  Could  you  describe  the  man  who  took  it?  " 

"No."   I  said.    "  I  did  not  see  the  man  take  it." 

"  Then  how  do  you  know  that  anybody  took  it?  " 
Of  course  I  did  not  know  that  anybody  had  taken  it; 
but  thought  it  highly  probable.  "  That  won't  do  here," 
he  said,  settling  down  in  his  chair  to  his  tobacco.  "  I'll 
look  into  it.  If  I  hear  of  it,  why,  next  time  you  come 
here,  you  shall  have  it." 

"  But  my  handkerchief,"  I  said. 

"  Sixpence  is  my  fee,"  the  brute  answered.  "  Do 
you  want  to  rob  a  poor  man  of  his  earnings?  Why, 
what  a  rogue  you  must  be,  young  master."  I  tried  to 
move  him  to  recover  my  handkerchief,  but  without 
success.  At  last,  growing  weary  of  the  sound  of  my 
pipe,  as  he  said,  he  rounded  on  me. 

"  If  you  don't  run  away  'ome,"  he  said,  "  I'll  commit 
you  for  a  nuisance.  Think  I'm  goin'  to  be  bothered  by 
yer.  Be  off,  now." 

At  that,  I  set  off  down  to  the  river.  There  I  found 
two  dirty  little  boys  in  my  uncle's  boat,  busy  with  the 
dipper,  trying  to  fill  her  with  water.  I  boxed  the  ears 
of  one  of  them,  when  the  other,  coming  behind  me,  hit 


I  LEAVE  HOME  AGAIN  25 

me  over  the  head  with  the  stretcher.  I  turned  sharply, 
giving  him  a  punch  which  made  his  nose  bleed.  The 
other,  seeing  his  chance  (my  back  being  turned) 
promptly  soused  me  with  the  dipper.  I  saw  that  I 
would  have  to  settle  one  of  them  at  a  time,  so,  paying 
no  attention  to  the  dipper,  I  followed  up  my  blow  on 
the  nose  with  one  or  two  more,  which  drove  the  stretcher- 
boy  out  of  the  boat.  The  other  was  a  harder  lad;  who 
would,  perhaps,  have  beaten  me,  had  not  a  waterman 
on  the  stairs  taken  my  part.  He  took  my  enemy  by 
the  ear.  "  Get  out  of  that,"  he  said,  giving  him  a 
kick.  "  If  I  catch  you  messing  boats  again,  I'll  give 
you  Mogador  Jack."  I  pushed  of!  from  the  stairs  then, 
glad  to  get  away  with  both  oars.  My  enemies,  running 
along  the  banks,  flung  stones  at  me  as  long  as  I  was  in 
range.  If  I  had  had  my  sling  with  me,  I  would  have 
warmed  their  legs  for  them.  When  I  was  out  of  range 
of  their  shot,  I  laid  in  my  oars,  so  that  I  could  bail. 
The  boys  had  poured  about  six  inches  of  water  into  the 
boat.  If  the  plug  had  been  less  tightly  hammered  in, 
they  would  no  doubt  have  sunk  her  at  her  painter  by 
pulling  it  out.  Then  I  should  have  been  indeed  in 
difficulty.  It  took  me  about  twenty  minutes  to  bail 
the  boat  clear.  As  I  bailed  her,  I  thought  that  Londoners 
must  be  the  most  unpleasant  people  in  the  world,  since, 
already,  in  two  days,  I  had  met  so  many  knaves.  It 
did  not  occur  to  me  at  the  tune  that  I  was  a  young 
knave,  too,  to  be  out  in  a  stolen  boat,  against  orders. 


26  MARTIN   HYDE 

I  never  once  thought  how  well  I  had  been  served  for 
my  disobedience. 

I  had  an  uncomfortable  journey  upstream,  for  I  was 
very  wet  from  my  sousing.  I  loitered  at  the  Tower  to 
watch  the  garrison  drilling  with  the  big  guns.  Then 
I  loitered  about  among  the  ships,  reading  their  names, 
or  even  climbing  their  gangways  to  look  at  their  decks. 
I  lingered  a  long  time  at  the  schooner  La  Reina,  partly 
because  she  was  much  the  prettiest  ship  in  the  Pool, 
but  partly  because  I  was  beginning  to  dread  Ephraim. 
I  wondered  whether  Mr.  Jermyn  was  on  board  of  her. 
I  was  half  tempted  to  climb  aboard  to  find  out.  I 
clambered  partly  up  her  gangway,  so  that  I  could  peer 
over  her  rail.  To  my  surprise,  I  found  that  her  hatches 
were  battened  down  as  in  ships  ready  for  the  sea.  Her 
cargo  of  oranges,  that  had  smelt  so  sweetly,  must  have 
been  a  blind,  for  no  ship,  discharging  cargo  the  day 
before,  could  be  loaded,  ready  for  sea,  within  twenty- 
four  hours.  Indeed,  she  was  in  excellent  trim.  She 
was  not  too  light  to  put  to  sea.  No  doubt,  I  said  to 
myself,  she  has  taken  in  ballast  to  equal  the  weight  of 
oranges  sent  ashore.  But  I  knew  just  enough  of  ships 
to  know  that  there  was  some  mystery  in  the  business. 
The  schooner  could  not  be  the  plain  fruit-trader  for 
which  men  took  her.  As  I  looked  over  her  rail,  noting 
this,  I  said  to  myself  that  "  here  is  another  mystery 
with  which  Mr.  Jermyn  has  to  do."  I  felt  a  thrill  of 
excitement  go  through  me.  I  was  touching  mysterious 


I  LEAVE  HOME  AGAIN  27 

adventure  at  half  a  dozen  different  points.  I  felt 
inclined  to  creep  to  the  hatchway  of  the  little  cabin, 
to  listen  there  if  any  plots  were  being  hatched.  It  was 
getting  duskish  by  this  time,  it  must  have  been  nearly 
seven  o'clock.  Two  men  came  UQ  the  cabin  hatch 
together.  One  of  them  was  Mr.  Jermyn,  the  other  a 
shorter  fellow,  to  whom  Mr.  Jermyn  seemed  extremely 
respectful.  I  wished  not  to  be  seen,  so  I  ducked  down 
nimbly  into  my  boat,  drawing  her  forward  by  a  guess- 
warp,  till  I  could  row  without  being  heard  by  them.  I 
heard  Mr.  Jermyn  calling  to  a  waterman;  so  very  swiftly 
I  paddled  behind  other  ships  in  the  tier,  without  being 
observed.  Then  I  paddled  back  to  my  uncle's  boat- 
house,  the  door  of  which,  to  my  horror,  was  firmly 
fastened  against  me. 


CHAPTER  III 

I  LEAVE   HOME   A  THIRD  TIME 

I  MUST  have  made  some  little  noise  at  the  door,  trying 
to  get  in.  At  any  rate,  Ephraim,  who  was  waiting  for 
such  a  signal,  came  forward  with  a  churlish  glee  to 
rate  me. 

"  So  you're  come  back,  Mr.  Martin,"  he  said.  "  These 
are  nice  carryings-on  for  a  young  gentleman."  I  thought 
that  I  might  as  well  be  hanged  for  a  sheep  as  for  a 
lamb.  Ephraim's  tone  jarred  upon  me,  so  I  told  him 
to  shut  up,  as  I  didn't  want  any  of  his  jaw.  This  rather 
staggered  him,  so  I  told  him  further  to  open  the  boat- 
house,  instead  of  standing  like  a  stock,  as  I  wanted 
to  moor  the  boat.  He  opened  the  door  for  me,  glowering 
at  me  moodily.  "  Mr.  Hyde  shall  know  of  this,"  he 
said  when  all  was  secured.  He  caught  me  by  the  arm 
to  drag  me  out  of  the  boat-house;  so  I,  expecting  this, 
rapped  him  shrewdly  with  the  stretcher  on  the  elbow. 
I  thought  for  a  moment  that  he  would  beat  me.  I 
could  see  his  face  very  fierce  in  the  dusk.  I  heard  his 
teeth  gritting.  Then  fear  of  my  uncle  restrained  him. 
All  that  he  said  was,  "  If  I  'ad  my  way  I'd  'ave  it  out  of 
you  for  this.  A  good  sound  whippin's  what  you 


I  LEAVE  HOME  A  THIRD  TIME  29 

want."  "  Is  it?  "  I  asked  contemptuously.  "  Lock  the 
door." 

Ephraim  left  me  in  the  sitting-room  while  he  made 
his  report  to  my  uncle.  It  was  not  a  long  report.  He 
returned  in  a  few  minutes  to  say  that  I  was  to  be  locked 
into  my  room  without  supper.  "  Mr.  'Ide  is  in  a  fine 
taking/'  he  said.  "  Per'aps  Vll  knock  some  of  your 
pride  out  of  you."  I  made  no  answer,  but  let  him 
march  me  to  my  room,  to  the  execution  of  the  sentence. 
"  There,"  he  said,  through  the  door,  as  he  turned 
the  key  on  me.  "  Per'aps  that'll  bring  you  to  your 
senses." 

"  Ephraim  the  stiff-neck !  "  I  answered  loudly.  "  Old 
Ephraim  Stiff-neck!  Stiff-neck!" 

"  Ah,"  he  answered,  clumping  down  the  corridor. 
He  was  thinking  how  small  I  should  sing  when,  in  the 
morning,  he  gave  me  the  option  of  apologizing  to  him, 
or  going  without  breakfast. 

It  was  pretty  dark  by  this  time.  Fish  Lane  was 
as  quiet  as  a  country  road.  No  one  was  stirring  there. 
I  thought  that,  as  my  uncle  would  shortly  go  to  supper, 
I  might  soon  venture  out  by  the  window,  high  up  as 
I  was,  to  buy  myself  some  food  in  the  town.  I  liked 
the  notion;  but  when  I  came  to  look  down  from  the 
window  it  seemed  a  giddy  height  from  the  pavement. 
Going  down  would  be  easy;  but  getting  back  would  be 
quite  another  matter.  Thinking  it  over,  I  remembered 
that  I  had  seen  a  short  gardener's  ladder  hooked  to  the 


30  MARTIN  HYDE 

garden  wall.  If  I  could  make  a  rope,  by  which  to  let 
myself  down,  I  could,  I  thought,  make  use  of  this 
ladder  to  get  back  by,  for  it  would  cover  nearly  half  the 
height  to  my  window  sill,  a  full  thirty  feet  from  the 
ground.  If,  by  standing  on  the  upper  rungs,  I  could 
reach  within  five  yards  of  the  window,  I  knew  that  I 
should  be  able  to  scramble  up  so  far  by  a  rope.  There 
was  no  difficulty  about  a  rope.  I  had  a  good  eighteen 
yards  of  choice  stout  rope  there  in  the  room  with  me, 
the  lashings  of  my  two  trunks.  I  was  about  to  pay  this 
out  into  the  lane,  when  I  thought  that  it  would  be  far 
more  effective  if  I  fashioned  a  ladder  for  myself,  using 
the  two  trunk  lashings  as  the  uprights.  This  was  a 
glorious  thought.  I  tied  the  lashings  together  behind 
the  wooden  bed-post  which  was  to  be  my  support  in  mid- 
air. Then  I  rummaged  out  a  hank  of  sailor's  spunyarn, 
a  kind  of  very  strong  tarred  string,  with  which  to  make 
my  steps,  or  rungs.  I  did  not  do  this  very  well,  for  I 
was  working  in  the  dark,  but  you  may  be  sure  that  I 
made  those  steps  with  all  my  strength,  since  my  bones 
were  to  depend  upon  them.  I  ran  short  of  spunyarn 
before  I  had  finished,  so  my  last  three  steps  were  made 
of  the  fire-irons.  They  made  a  good  finish  to  the  whole; 
for,  being  heavy,  they  kept  the  ladder  steady.  At 
least  I  thought  that  they  would  keep  the  ladder  steady, 
hi  the  innocence  of  my  heart. 

I  was  so  excited,  when  I  finished  the  tying  of  the 
tongs,  that  I  almost  forgot  to  take  some  money  from 


I  LEAVE  HOME  A  THIRD  TIME  31 

the  little  store  which  I  kept  locked  up  in  my  trunk. 
A  shilling  would  be  ample,  I  thought;  but  I  took  rather 
more  than  that,  so  as  to  be  on  the  safe  side.  I  took  the 
precaution,  before  leaving,  of  bolting  my  door  from 
the  inside,  lest  Ephraim  should  visit  me  in  my  absence. 
Then,  having  tested  all  my  knots,  I  paid  out  my  ladder 
from  the  window.  No  one  was  within  sight  along  the 
lane.  Downstairs  they  were  at  supper,  for  I  heard  the 
dining-room  bell  ring.  Very  cautiously  I  swung  myself 
over  the  window  ledge  on  my  adventure.  Now  a  rope 
ladder  is  an  unsteady  thing  at  the  best  of  times;  but 
when  I  swung  myself  on  to  this  one  it  jumped  about  like 
a  wild  colt,  banging  the  fire-irons  against  the  wall, 
making  noise  enough  to  raise  the  town.  I  had  to  climb 
down  it  on  the  inner  side,  or  I  should  have  had  Ephraim 
out  to  see  what  the  matter  was.  Even  so,  my  heart 
was  hi  my  mouth,  with  fright,  as  I  stepped  on  to  the 
pavement.  After  making  sure  that  no  one  saw,  I  hooked 
up  the  lower  ends  of  my  ladder  as  far  as  I  could  reach, 
so  that  a  passer-by  might  run  less  chance  of  seeing  them. 
Then  I  scuttled  off  to  the  delights  of  Eastcheap,  thinking 
what  glorious  sport  I  could  have  with  this  ladder  in 
time  to  come.  I  thought  of  the  moonlight  adventures 
on  the  river,  skulking  along  in  my  boat,  like  a  pirate 
on  a  night  attack.  I  thought  how,  perhaps,  I  should 
overhear  gangs  of  highwaymen  making  their  plans, 
or  robbers  in  their  dens,  carousing  after  a  victory.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  London  might  be  a  wonderful 


32  MARTIN  HYDE 

place,   to  one  with  such  a  means  of   getting  out   at 
night. 

I  ate  a  good  supper  at  a  cook-shop,  sauntered  about 
the  streets  for  awhile,  then  sauntered  slowly  home, 
after  buying  a  tinder  box,  with  which  to  light  my 
candles.  I  found  my  ladder  dangling  unnoticed,  so 
I  nimbly  climbed  to  my  room,  pulling  it  up  after  me, 
like  the  savages  in  Polynesia.  I  lit  my  candles,  intending 
to  read;  but  I  found  that  I  was  far  too  well  inclined  for 
mischief  to  pay  much  heed  to  my  book.  Casting  about 
for  something  to  do,  I  thought  that  I  would  open  a 
little  locked  door  which  led  to  some  (apparently  dis- 
used) room  beyond  my  own.  I  had  some  difficulty 
in  breaking  the  lock  of  this  door;  but  a  naughty  boy 
is  generally  very  patient.  I  opened  it  at  last,  with  some 
misgivings  as  to  what  my  uncle  might  say  on  the  mor- 
row, though  with  the  feeling  that  I  was  a  sort  of  con- 
spirator, or,  shall  we  say,  a  man  haunting  a  house, 
playing  ghost,  coming  at  night  to  his  secret  chamber. 
I  was  disappointed  with  the  room.  Like  my  own  room, 
it  was  nothing  more  than  a  long,  bare  attic.  It  had  a 
false  floor,  like  so  many  houses  of  the  time,  but  there 
was  no  thought  of  concealment  here.  Half  a  dozen 
of  the  long  flooring  planks  were  stored  in  a  stack  against 
the  wall,  so  that  anyone  could  see  what  lay  in  the  hollow 
below.  There  was  nothing  romantic  there.  A  long 
array  of  docketed,  ticketed  bundles  of  receipts  filled 
more  than  half  the  space.  I  suppose  that  nearly  every 


I   NIMBLY   CLIMBED    TO    MY    ROOM. 


Page  32 


I  LEAVE  HOME  A  THIRD  TIME  33 

bill  which  my  uncle  had  ever  paid  lay  there,  gathering 
dust.  The  rest  of  the  space  was  filled  with  Ephraim's 
dirty  old  account  books,  jumbled  higgledy-piggledy 
with  collections  of  printed,  unbound  sermons,  such  as 
used  to  be  sold  forty  years  before,  in  the  great  Puritan 
time.  I  examined  a  few  of  the  sermons,  hoping  to 
find  some  lighter  fare  among  them.  I  examined  also 
a  few  of  the  old  account  books,  in  the  same  hope.  Other 
rubbish  lay  scattered  in  the  corners  of  the  room;  old 
mouse-eaten  saddle-bags  mostly.  There  were  one  or 
two  empty  baskets,  which  had  once  been  lined  with 
silk.  In  one  of  them,  I  can't  think  why,  there  was  an 
old  empty,  dusty  powder-horn,  the  only  thing  in  that 
room  at  all  to  my  taste.  I  stuck  it  into  my  belt  with 
a  scrap  of  spunyarn,  feeling  that  it  made  me  a  wonderful 
piratical  figure:  If  I  had  had  a  lantern  I  should  have 
been  a  very  king  there. 

As  I  sat  among  the  rubbish  there,  with  my  pistol  (a 
sailmaker's  fid)  in  my  belt,  it  occurred  to  me  that  I 
would  sit  up  till  everyone  had  gone  to  bed.  Then, 
at  eleven  or  twelve  o'clock,  I  would,  I  thought,  creep 
downstairs,  to  explore  all  over  the  house,  down  even  to 
the  cellars.  It  shocked  me  when  I  remembered  that  I 
was  locked  in.  I  dared  not  pick  the  lock  of  that  door. 
My  scheme  (after  all)  would  have  to  wait  for  another 
night,  when  the  difficulties  would  be  less.  That  scheme 
of  mine  has  waited  until  the  present  time.  Though 
I  never  thpught  it,  that  was  the  last  hour  I  was  to  spend 


34  MARTIN  HYDE 

in  my  uncle's  house.  I  walked  past  it,  only  the  other 
day,  thinking  how  strange  my  life  has  been,  feeling 
sad,  too,  that  I  should  never  know  to  what  room  a  door 
at  the  end  of  the  upper  passage  led.  Well,  I  never  shall 
know,  now.  I  was  a  wild,  disobedient  young  rogue. 
Read  on. 

When  I  decided  not  to  pick  the  lock  of  my  door  I 
thought  of  the  mysterious  Mr.  Jermyn  as  an  alternative 
excitement.  I  crept  to  my  window  to  look  out  at  the 
house,  watching  it  with  a  sort  of  terrified  pleasure, 
half  expecting  to  see  a  ghost  flapping  his  wings,  outside 
the  window.  I  was  surprised  to  see  that  the  window  of 
the  upper  floor,  (which  I  knew  to  be  uninhabited)  was 
open.  I  watched  it,  (it  was  just  opposite)  hoping  that 
something  would  happen.  Presently  two  men  came 
quickly  up  the  lane  from  the  river.  As  they  neared  the 
house  they  seemed  to  me  to  shuffle  in  their  walk  rather 
more  than  was  necessary.  It  must  have  been  a  signal, 
for,  as  they  came  opposite  the  door,  I  saw  it  swing  back 
upon  its  hinges,  as  it  had  swung  that  morning,  with  Mr. 
Jermyn.  Both  men  entered  the  house  swiftly,  just 
as  the  city  churches,  one  after  the  other,  chimed  half- 
past  nine  o'clock.  Almost  directly  afterwards  I  got 
the  start  of  my  life.  I  was  looking  into  the  dark  upper 
room  across  the  lane,  expecting  nothing,  when  suddenly, 
out  of  the  darkness,  so  terribly  that  I  was  scared  beyond 
screaming,  two  large  red  eyes  glowed,  over  a  mouth 
that  trembled  in  fire.  I  started  back  in  my  seat,  sick 


I  LEAVE  HOME  A  THIRD  TIME  35 

with  fright,  but  I  could  not  take  my  eyes  away.  I 
watched  that  horrid  thing,  with  my  hair  stiffening  on 
my  head.  Then  in  the  room  below  it,  the  luminous 
figure  of  an  owl  gleamed  out.  That  was  not  the  worst, 
either.  I  heard  that  savage,  "  chacking  "  noise  which 
brown  owls  make  when  they  are  perched.  This  great 
gleaming  owl,  five  times  greater  than  any  earthly  owl, 
was  making  that  chacking  noise,  as  though  it  would 
soon  spread  its  wings,  to  swoop  on  some  such  wretched 
mouse  as  myself.  I  could  see  its  eyes  roll.  I  thought  I 
saw  the  feathers  stiffen  on  its  breast.  Then,  as  the  sweat 
rolled  down  my  face,  both  the  horrible  things  vanished 
as  suddenly  as  they  had  appeared.  They  were  gone  for 
more  than  a  minute,  then  they  appeared  again,  only 
to  disappear  a  second  time.  They  were  exactly  alike 
at  each  appearance.  Soon  my  horror  left  me,  for  I 
saw  that  the  things  disappeared  at  regular  intervals. 
I  found  that  I  could  time  each  reappearance  by  counting 
ninety  slowly  from  the  instant  the  things  vanished. 
That  calmed  me.  "  I  believe  they're  only  clock-work,"  I 
said  to  myself.  A  moment  later  I  saw  Mr.  Jermyn's  head 
in  sharp  outline  against  the  brightness  of  the  owl.  He 
seemed  to  be  fixing  something  with  his  hand.  It  made 
me  burst  into  a  cackle  of  laughter,  to  find  how  easily 
I  had  been  scared.  "  Why,  it's  only  clock-work/' 
I  said  aloud.  "  They're  carved  turnips  with  candles 
inside  them,  fixed  to  a  revolving  pole,  like  those  we 
used  to  play  with  at  Oulton,  on  the  5th  of  No- 


36  MARTIN  HYDE 

vember."  My  fear  was  gone  in  an  instant.  I  thought 
to  myself  how  fine  it  would  be  if  I  could  get  into 
that  house,  to  stop  the  works,  in  revenge  for  the  scare 
they  had  given  me.  I  wondered  how  could  I  do 
that. 


CHAPTER  IV 

I  LEAVE   HOME   FOR  THE   LAST  TIME 

I  WAS  thoroughly  ripe  for  mischief  of  any  kind;  my 
scare  had  driven  away  all  desire  for  sleep.  I  looked 
at  the  window,  wondering  if  it  would  be  best  to  go 
down  my  ladder  again,  to  get  the  ladder  in  the  garden. 
I  was  about  to  do  thus,  when  I  remembered  the  planks 
in  the  box-room.  How  splendid  it  would  be,  I  thought, 
if  I  could  get  a  couple  of  those  long  planks  across  the 
lane  as  a  sort  of  bridge.  They  were  strong,  thick  planks 
not  likely  to  sag  in  the  middle  if  I  could  only  get  them 
across.  Getting  them  across  was  the  difficulty;  for 
though  I  was  strong  for  my  age,  I  found  the  first  plank 
very  contrary.  After  blowing  out  my  candles  I  fixed 
one  end  of  the  board  under  my  heavy  four-post  bed, 
pointing  the  other  end  out  through  the  window,  slanting 
upwards.  Straddling  across  it,  I  very  gingerly  edged 
it  out,  a  hand's  breadth  at  a  time,  till  I  had  some  ten 
feet  wagging  about  in  the  air  over  the  lane.  It  was  as 
much  as  I  could  do  unaided,  to  aim  the  thing.  It  seemed 
to  have  a  wild,  contrary  kind  of  life  in  it.  Once  or 
twice  I  came  near  to  dropping  it  into  the  lane,  which 
would  have  been  the  end  of  everything.  When  I  got 


38  MARTIN  HYDE 

it  across,  the  end  caught  on  the  window  ledge  for  about 
ten  perilous  minutes.  I  was  quite  tired  out  before  I  got 
it  properly  across  with  two  feet  of  the  end  in  the  other 
house.  I  did  not  at  all  look  forward  to  the  job  of  getting 
it  back  again  after  my  trip.  One  plank  was  hardly  safe, 
I  thought;  so  I  slid  a  second  over  it,  without  much 
trouble.  It  seemed  firm  enough  then  for  anybody,  no 
matter  how  heavy.  So  carefully  I  straddled  across  it, 
hopping  forward  a  little  at  a  time,  as  though  I  were 
playing  leap-frog.  When  once  I  had  started,  I  was  much 
too  nervous  to  go  back.  My  head  was  strong  enough. 
I  was  well  used  to  being  high  up  in  trees.  But  the 
danger  of  this  adventure  made  me  dizzy.  At  every 
hop  the  two  planks  clacked  together.  I  could  feel  the 
upper  plank  shaking  out  behind  me  a  little  to  one 
side  of  the  other.  Then  a  tired  waterman  shambled 
slowly  up  from  the  river,  carrying  his  oars.  He  passed 
underneath  me,  while  I  was  in  mid-air.  It  was  lucky 
for  me,  I  thought,  that  few  people  when  walking  look 
above  their  own  heads.  He  passed  on  without  seeing  me. 
I  waited  up  aloft  till  he  had  gone,  feeling  my  head  grow 
dizzier  at  each  second.  I  was,  I  trust,  truly  thankful 
when  I  was  able  to  dive  down  over  the  window-sill 
into  the  strange  house.  When  I  had  rested  for  a  moment, 
I  felt  that  it  was  not  so  difficult  after  all.  "  Going  back," 
I  said  to  myself,  "  will  be  much  less  ticklish."  Turning 
my  head,  I  saw  the  eyes  of  the  devil-face  glaring  at  me. 
They  smelt  very  strongly  of  kitchen  tallow. 


I  LEAVE  HOME  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME         39 

I  was  not  in  the  least  frightened.  I  crept  cautiously 
along  the  floor,  on  tip-toe,  to  examine  the  contrivance. 
A  hollow  shaft  of  light  wood,  a  sort  of  big  wooden  pipe, 
led  down  through  the  floor,  probably  to  the  ground-floor 
or  basement,  much  as  a  mast  goes  down  through  a  ship's 
decks  into  the  hold.  It  was  slowly  revolving,  being 
worked  by  some  simple,  not  very  strong  mill-contrivance 
downstairs.  A  shelf  had  been  fixed  up  inside  the  pipe. 
On  the  shelf  (as  I  could  see  by  looking  in)  was  a  tallow 
candle  in  a  sconce.  Two  oval  bits  of  red  glass,  let  into 
the  wood,  made  the  eyes  of  this  lantern-devil.  The 
mouth  was  a  smear  of  some  gleaming  stuff,  evidently 
some  chemical.  This  was  all  the  monster  which  had 
frightened  me.  The  clacking  noise  was  made  by  the 
machine  which  moved  it  round.  As  for  the  owl,  that 
was  probably  painted  with  the  same  chemical.  People 
were  more  superstitious  then  than  now.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  an  ignorant  person  like  Ephraim,  who  had 
lived  all  his  life  in  London,  had  been  scared  out  of  his 
wits  by  this  machine.  Like  most  ignorant  people,  he 
probably  reckoned  the  thing  as  devilish,  merely  because 
he  did  not  understand  it.  One  or  two  neighbours,  a 
housemaid  or  so,  perhaps,  had  seen  it,  too.  On  the 
strength  of  their  reports  the  house  had  gotten  a  bad 
name.  The  two  unoccupied  floors  had  failed  to  get 
tenants,  while  Mr.  Jermyn,  the  contriver  of  the  whole, 
had  been  left  alone,  as  no  doubt  he  had  planned.  I 
thought  that  Londoners  must  be  a  very  foolish  people 


40  MARTIN   HYDE 

to  be  so  easily  misled.  Now  that  I  am  older,  I  see  that 
Londoners  often  live  in  very  narrow  grooves.  They 
are  apt  to  be  frightened  at  anything  to  which  they  have 
not  been  accustomed;  unless,  of  course,  it  is  a  war, 
when  they  can  scream  about  themselves  so  loudly  that 
they  forget  that  they  are  screaming. 

I  examined  the  machine  critically,  by  its  own  candle, 
which  I  removed  for  the  purpose.  I  meant  to  fix  up 
one  very  like  it  in  Ephraim's  bed-room  as  soon  as  I 
found  an  opportunity.  Then  I  looked  about  the  room 
for  some  other  toy,  feeling  in  a  fine  state  of  excitement 
with  the  success  of  my  adventure.  The  room  was  quite 
bare.  But  for  this  ghost-machine,  there  was  nothing 
which  could  interest  me,  except  a  curious  drawing,  done 
with  a  burnt  stick  on  the  plaster  of  the  wall,  of  a  man- 
of-war  under  sail.  After  examining  this  drawing,  I 
listened  carefully  at  the  door  lest  my  faint  footsteps 
should  have  roused  someone  below.  I  could  hear  no 
one  stirring;  the  house  was  silent.  "  I  must  be  careful," 
I  said  to  myself.  "  They  all  may  have  gone  to  bed." 
Understand,  I  did  not  know  then  what  I  was  doing.  I 
was  merely  a  wrong-headed  boy,  up  to  a  prank,  begun 
in  a  moment  of  rebellion.  When  I  paused  in  the  landing, 
outside  the  ghost-room,  shading  the  candle  with  my 
hand,  I  was  not  aware  that  I  was  doing  wrong.  I  was 
only  thinking  how  fine  it  would  be  to  find  out  about 
Mr.  Jermyn,  before  crawling  back,  over  the  plank,  to 
my  bed.  I  wanted  to  steal  about  these  deserted  floors, 


I  LEAVE  HOME  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME          41 

like  a  conspirator;  then,  having,  perhaps,  found  out 
about  the  mystery,  to  go  back  home.  It  did  not  enter 
my  head  that  I  might  be  shot  as  a  burglar.  My  original 
intention,  you  must  remember,  had  only  been  to  stop 
the  works  of  the  ghost.  It  was  later  on  that  my  in- 
tention became  criminal,  instead  of  merely  boyish,  or, 
in  other  words,  crack-brained.  As  to  stopping  the 
ghost,  I  could  not  stop  the  revolving  pipe.  I  could 
do  no  more  than  take  away  the  light  from  the  ghost- 
face.  As  for  the  owl  on  the  lower  floor,  when  I  came  to 
it,  I  found  that  I  could  not  do  so  much,  for  it  was  a 
great  big  picture  on  board,  done  in  some  shining  paint.  I 
had  nothing  with  which  I  could  smear  it  over,  nor 
could  I  reach  the  head.  As  for  stopping  the  machine, 
that  I  dared  not  attempt  to  do,  lest  I  should  bring 
someone  up  to  me,  from  the  works,  wherever  they  were. 
Standing  by  the  ghost  of  the  owl,  hearing  the  chack- 
chack  of  the  machine  at  intervals  below  me,  I  became 
aware  of  voices  in  the  room  downstairs.  When  the 
chack-chack  stopped,  I  could  hear  men  talking.  I 
could  hear  what  they  said,  for  they  were  talking  hi  the 
ordinary  tone  of  conversation.  There  was  an  open  space 
as  it  happened,  all  round  the  great  pipe,  where  it  passed 
through  the  floor.  I  could  peep  through  this  into  the 
room  below,  getting  a  good  sight  of  what  was  going 
on.  It  was  very  wicked  of  me,  for  there  is  nothing  quite 
so  contemptible  as  an  eavesdropper,  but  I  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  look  down.  When  once  I  had 


42  MARTIN  HYDE 

looked  down  I  am  ashamed  to  say  that  I  listened  to 
what  the  men  were  saying.  But  first  of  all,  I  put  out 
my  candle,  lest  anyone  looking  up  should  see  the  light 
through  the  open  space. 

At  the  head  of  the  table,  there  was  a  very  handsome 
man,  dressed  all  in  black,  as  though  in  mourning.  His 
beauty  was  so  great  that  afterwards  it  passed  into  a 
proverb.  Later  in  the  year,  when  I  saw  this  gentleman 
nearly  every  day,  I  noticed  that  people  (even  those  who 
did  not  know  who  he  was)  would  look  after  him  when 
he  passed  them.  I  will  say  only  this  about  his  hand- 
someness. It  was  a  bodily  kind  of  beauty,  of  colour 
rather  than  of  form;  there  was  not  much  character  in 
it.  Had  he  lived,  I  daresay  he  would  have  become 
ugly  like  the  rest  of  his  family,  none  of  whom,  except 
his  great-great-grandmother,  was  accounted  much  for 
looks. 

Next  to  this  handsome  man,  on  the  right,  sat  Mr. 
Jermyn,  looking  fifteen  years  younger  without  his  false 
beard.  Then  came  a  very  black-looking  man,  with  a 
face  all  eyebrows.  Then  a  soldier  in  uniform.  Then  a 
little,  wiry  man,  who  jumped  about  as  though  excited  — 
I  could  only  see  him  when  he  jumped :  he  had  an  un- 
pleasant, saturnine  face,  which  frightened  me.  That, 
as  far  as  I  could  see,  was  the  whole  company.  When 
I  first  began  to  listen,  the  man  in  uniform  was  speaking 
to  the  handsome  man  at  the  head  of  the  table.  I  knew 
at  once,  when  he  said  Your  Majesty,  that  he  was  talking 


I  LEAVE  HOME  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME          43 

to  James,  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  of  whom  I  had  heard 
that  afternoon. 

"  No,  your  Majesty,"  he  said.  "  No,  your  Majesty," 
he  repeated,  "  I  can't  answer  for  the  army.  If  things 
had  been  different  in  February  "  (he  meant,  "  if  you  had 
been  in  England  when  Charles  II  died  ")  "  there  would 
have  been  another  King  in  England.  As  it  is,  I'm 
against  a  rising." 

"  Don't  you  think  his  Majesty  could  succeed  by  raising 
an  army  hi  the  West?  "  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  The  present 
usurper  (he  meant  James  II)  is  a  great  coward.  The 
West  is  ripe  to  rebel.  Any  strong  demonstration  there 
would  paralyse  him.  Besides,  the  army  wouldn't  fire 
on  their  own  countrymen.  We'd  enough  of  that  in  the 
Civil  War.  What  do  you  think  of  a  Western  rising?  " 

The  soldier  smiled.  "  Ah  no,"  he  said.  "  No,  your 
Majesty.  Whatever  you  do,  Sire,  don't  do  it  with 
untrained  men.  A  rising  in  the  West  would  only  put 
you  at  the  head  of  a  mob.  A  regiment  of  steady  trained 
men  in  good  discipline  can  destroy  any  mob  in  twenty 
minutes.  No,  your  Majesty.  No.  Don't  try  it,  Sire." 

"  Then  what  do  you  advise,  Lane?  "  said  the  Duke. 

"  I  would  say  wait,  your  Majesty.  Wait  till  the 
usurper,  the  poisoner,  commits  himself  with  the  Papists. 
When  he's  made  himself  thoroughly  unpopular  through- 
out the  country,  then  sound  a  few  regiments.  It's  only 
a  matter  of  a  year  or  two.  If  you'll  wait  for  a  year  or 
two  you'll  see  yourself  invited  over.  Besides,  a  sudden 


44  MARTIN  HYDE 

rising  in  the  West  must  fail,  sir.  Your  Majesty  would 
be  in  between  two  great  garrisons,  Bristol  and  Ports- 
mouth. We  can't  be  sure  that  either  would  be  true 
to  us." 

"  Yes/'  the  Duke  answered.  "  Yes,  Lane.  But  as 
I  plan  it,  the  army  will  be  tempted  north.  Argyle  will 
make  a  strong  feint  in  Scotland,  with  the  great  clans, 
just  when  the  Western  gentry  declare  for  us." 

"  I  take  it,"  Lane  answered,  "  that  Argyle  has 
sounded  the  clans.  He  knows,  I  suppose,  what  force 
of  drilled  men  will  rally  to  him.  You  know  nothing,  sir, 
about  the  West.  You  know  that  many  men  are  for 
you;  but  you  know  not  how  many  nor  how  good.  You 
will  need  mounted  men,  sir,  if  you  are  to  dash  down 
upon  London  with  any  speed.  You  cannot  raise  cavalry 
in  a  week.  All  that  you  will  get  in  the  West  will  be 
squireens,  or  dashing  young  farmers,  both  kinds  un- 
accustomed to  being  ordered;  both  kinds  totally  un- 
fitted for  war." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  saturnine  little  man.  "  But  a  rising 
hi  the  West  would  have  this  natural  effect.  Argyle  will 
draw  troops  to  the  north,  as  his  Majesty  has  explained. 
Very  well,  then.  Let  Devon  declare  for  the  King,  the 
business  will  be  done.  The  usurper  will  not  dare  to  send 
the  few  troops  left  to  him  out  of  the  capital,  lest  the 
town  should  rise  on  him." 

"  Very  true.  True.  A  good  point,"  said  the  man  with 
the  eyebrows. 


I  LEAVE  HOME  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME         45 

"  I  think  that  disposes  of  your  argument,  Lane," 
said  the  Duke,  with  a  smile. 

"  It's  a  supposition,  sir,  against  a  certainty.  I've 
told  you  of  a  military  danger.  Falk,  there,  only  tells 
you  of  a  bare,  military  possibility." 

"  But  it's  as  certain  as  anything  can  be/'  said  the 
man  with  the  eyebrows.  "  You  can  see.  That's 
just  what  must  happen." 

"  It  is  what  may  happen  if  you  wait  for  a  year  or 
two,  your  Majesty/'  Lane  replied.  "  But  a  newly 
crowned  King  is  always  popular.  I  doubt  if  you  will 
find  public  opinion  so  much  on  your  side,  your  Majesty. 
Not  for  a  year  or  two,  till  he's  made  himself  disliked. 
They've  settled  down  now  to  this  usurper.  They'll 
resent  an  interruption.  The  tradesmen  will  resent  an 
interruption." 

"  I  think  you  over-rate  the  difficulties,  Lane,"  said 
Mr.  Jermyn. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Duke,  "  I'm  a  great  believer  in 
putting  a  matter  to  the  test.  Much  must  necessarily 
be  left  to  chance.  If  we  wait,  we  may  not  find  public 
opinion  turning  against  our  enemies.  We  may  even 
lose  the  good  opinion  of  the  West  by  waiting.  Besides, 
by  waiting,  Lane,  we  should  lose  the  extraordinary 
help  of  Argyle's  diversion  in  the  north." 

"  Yes,"  the  others  said  in  chorus.  "  We  mustn't 
lose  that.  A  rising  this  early  summer,  when  the  roads  are 
good.  A  rising  as  soon  as  Argyle  is  ready." 


46  MARTIN   HYDE 

1  "  Well,  your  Majesty/'  said  Lane,  shaking  his  head. 
"I  see  you're  resolved.  You  shall  not  find  me  back- 
ward when  the  time  comes,  for  all  my  doubts  at  this 
meeting.  To  your  Majesty's  happy  success."  They  all 
drank  the  toast;  but  I  noticed  that  Mr.  Lane  looked 
melancholy,  as  though  he  foresaw  something  of  what 
actually  happened  in  that  terrible  June. 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  Duke.  "  I  thank  you,  gentle- 
men. Now,  Jermyn.  We  two  shall  have  to  be  off  to 
the  Low  Countries  in  another  half  hour.  How  about 
messengers  to  the  West  ?  You,  Lane,  are  tied  here  to 
your  regiment.  Falk,  how  about  you,  Falk?  " 

"  No,  your  Majesty,"  said  Falk.  "  There's  danger  in 
sending  me.  I'm  suspected.  I'm  known  to  be  in  your 
interests." 

"  You,  then,  Candlish,"  said  the  Duke  to  the  man  with 
the  eyebrows. 

"  Not  me,  Sire,"  said  Candlish.  "  I  can't  disguise 
myself.  I'm  stamped  by  nature  for  the  paths  of  virtue." 

"  It  would  be  a  good  thing,"  said  Falk,  "  if  we  could 
get  some  Western  carrier." 

"The  Western  carriers  are  all  watched,"  Lane  re- 
plied. "  They  are  followed,  wherever  they  go,  as  soon 
as  they  arrive  at  their  inns  here." 

"  Haven't  you  found  some  more  gipsies,  Falk? " 
Candlish  asked.  "The  last  gipsy  we  had  was  very 
good." 

"He   was   caught   by   a   press-gang,"    said   Falk. 


I  LEAVE  HOME  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME          47 

"  Gipsies  aren't  to  be  trusted,  though.    They  would  self 
us  at  once  if  they  had  the  chance.     Ramon  was  an 
exception." 

Mr.  Jermyn  had  risen  at  the  Duke's  last  speech  as 
though  to  put  on  his  coat,  ready  to  leave  the  house. 
The  Duke  was  listening  to  the  conversation,  making 
idle  sketches,  as  he  listened,  on  the  paper  before  him.  I 
think  I  hardly  realised,  as  I  craned  over  the  open  space, 
that  I  had  been  listening  to  a  conversation  which  would 
have  condemned  all  present  to  death  for  treason.  I 
repeated  to  myself,  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way,  that  the 
West  was  ready  to  rise.  "  King  James  is  an  usurper," 
I  said  softly.  "  These  men  are  going  to  rebel  against 
him.  There's  going  to  be  a  civil  war  in  England  about 
it."  I  had  hardly  repeated  this  to  myself,  when  it 
came  over  me  with  a  shock  that  I  was  in  terrible  per- 
sonal danger.  The  men  were  just  leaving  the  house. 
They  would  probably  look  up,  on  leaving,  to  see  what 
sort  of  a  night  it  was.  They  would  see  my  wonderful 
bridge.  It  would  be  all  over  with  me  then.  I  was  so 
frightened  that  I  could  hardly  stand  up.  I  took  a  few 
cautious  steps  towards  the  door,  saying  to  myself  that 
I  would  never  again  be  disobedient  if  I  might  escape 
this  once.  I  was  at  the  door,  just  about  to  open  it, 
when  I  heard  a  step  upon  the  landing  just  outside, 
coming  towards  me.  I  gave  up  hope  then;  but  I  had 
just  sense  enough  to  step  to  my  left,  so  that,  when  the 
door  should  open  (if  the  stranger  entered)  it  might, 


48  MABTIN  HYDE 

possibly,  screen  me  from  him.  Then  I  heard  the  Duke's 
voice  from  down  below  calling  to  Mr.  Jermyn. 

"  Jermyn,"  he  called.  "  Bring  down  my  books,  will 
you.  They're  on  my  bed.  What  are  you  doing  up 
there?  " 

"  Just  seeing  to  the  ghosts,  your  Majesty.  I  won't 
keep  you  waiting." 

"I'll  come,  too,"  he  answered.  "I'd  like  to  see  your 
ghosts  again." 

Then  I  heard  Mr.  Jermyn  loitering  at  the  stair-head 
while  the  Duke  left  the  council-room.  My  hair  was  rising 
on  my  scalp;  there  was  cold  sweat  on  my  forehead; 
it  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  keep  my  teeth  from 
chattering.  I  heard  the  Duke's  feet  upon  the  stairs; 
there  were  eleven  stairs,  I  counted  them.  Presently  I 
heard  him  say,  "  Now,  Jermyn."  Then  came  Jermyn's 
answer  of  "  This  way,  your  Majesty."  He  flung  the 
door  wide  open,  so  that  the  Duke  might  enter.  The 
two  men  passed  into  the  room  to  examine  the  horrible 
owl.  The  Duke  chuckled  as  the  machine  moved  round 
to  him.  "How  bright  he  keeps,"  he  said.  "Yes," 
Jermyn  answered.  "  He  won't  need  painting  for  a  long 
while  yet.'-  "  No,"  the  Duke  answered,  "  I  hear, 
Jermyn,  he's  given  you  a  most  uncanny  reputation." 
"  Yes,"  said  Jermyn,  "  the  house  has  a  bad  name. 
What  in  the  world  is  this?  "  In  walking  round  the  owl 
his  foot  had  struck  upon  the  unlucky  tin  candle-sconce 
which  I  had  brought  from  the  room  above.  "  Sounds 


I  LEAVE  HOME  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME         49 

like  a  tin  candle-stick/'  said  the  Duke.  "Yes,"  said 
Mr.  Jermyn,  groping.  "  That's  what  it  is.  Now  how 
in  the  world  did  it  get  here?  It's  the  candle-stick  from 
the  dragon's  head  in  the  room  above."  "  Are  you  sure, 
Jermyn?  "  the  Duke  asked,  in  a  voice  which  showed 
that  he  was  agitated.  "  Yes,  sir.  Quite  sure.  But  no 
one's  been  up  there."  "  There  must  be  a  spy,"  said 
the  Duke.  The  two  voices  spoke  together  for  a  moment 
in  whispers.  I  could  not  hear  what  they  said;  but  a 
moment  later  I  heard  the  rasping,  clinking  noise  of 
two  swords  being  drawn.  "  Come  out  of  that,"  said 
Mr.  Jermyn's  voice.  I  felt  that  I  was  discovered;  but 
I  dared  not  stir  from  my  covert.  I  heard  the  two  men 
walking  swiftly  to  the  door.  A  hand  plucked  it  from 
in  front  of  me.  I  shrank  back  into  the  wall,  covering 
my  eyes  with  my  hands,  so  that  I  should  not  see  the 
two  long  sword-blades  pointing  at  my  throat.  "  Make 
no  sound.  Make  no  sound,  now,"  said  the  Duke, 
pressing  his  sword-point  on  my  chest,  so  that  I  could 
feel  it  thrust  hard  upon  me,  as  though  it  needed  very 
little  force  to  send  it  through.  I  made  no  sound. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  said  Mr.  Jermyn,  backing  to  the 
opening  in  the  floor.  "  Kill  him  if  he  moves,  sir.  Cand- 
lish,  Candlish.  Bring  a  light.  Bring  a  light.  We've 
caught  a  moth." 

I  tried  to  swallow,  but  my  throat  seemed  choked 
with  dust.  I  heard  the  people  dpwnstairs  bustling  out 
of  the  room  with  candles.  I  tried  to  speak;  but  I  could 


50  .         MARTIN  HYDE 

not.  I  was  too  much  scared.  I  stood  pressed  hard 
against  the  wall,  with  the  Duke's  sword-point  still  in 
place. 

"  Bring  it  in  here,  Candlish,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn. 
There  came  a  clattering  noise  from  the  window.  Mr. 
Jermyn  had  released  some  heavy  rolled  up  curtain- 
blinds,  which  covered  the  whole  window.  There  was 
no  chance,  now,  of  being  seen  from  the  street,  or  from 
my  uncle's  house.  Candlish  entered  carrying  a  candle. 
The  others  followed  at  his  heels. 

"  A  boy.    Eh?  "  he  said. 

"  What  do  you  do  here?  "  the  Duke  asked,  staring 
hard  at  me. 

"  He's  frightened  out  of  his  wits,  sir,"  said  Lane. 
"  We  aren't  going  to  hurt  you,  boy,  if  you'll  only  tell 
the  truth." 

"  Why,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  It's  Martin  Hyde, 
nephew  to  old  Hyde  across  the  way." 

"  But  he's  overheard  us,"  put  in  Falk.  "  He's  over- 
heard us." 

"  Come  on  downstairs.  Bring  him  with  you,"  said 
the  Duke.  Lane  took  me  by  one  arm.  Mr.  Jermyn 
took  me  by  the  other.  They  marched  me  downstairs 
to  the  council-room. 

"  Here,  boy,"  said  Candlish,  not  unkindly.  "  Drink 
this  wine."  He  made  me  swallow  a  glass  of  Burgundy, 
which  certainly  did  me  a  great  deal  of  good.  I  was  able 
to  speak  after  drinking  it. 


I  LEAVE  HOME  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME         51 

"  Now,  Mr.  Hyde/'  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  How  do  you 
come  to  be  in  this  house?  " 

"  Take  your  time,  boy,"  said  Lane. 

"  He's  not  a  London  boy?  "  said  the  Duke  to  Mr. 
Jermyn. 

"  No,  sir,"  he  answered  in  a  whisper.  "  Just  come 
here  from  the  country." 

"  Please,  your  Majesty,"  I  began. 

"  So  you're  a  young  rebel,"  said  the  Duke. 

"  That  shows  he  overheard  us,"  said  Falk. 

"  Let  him  alone,  Falk,"  the  Duke  said.  "  He'll  tell 
the  truth.  No  use  in  frightening  him." 

"  Please,  your  Majesty,"  I  said  again,  "  I  was  locked 
up  in  my  room  for  taking  my  uncle's  boat  this  afternoon." 
One  or  two  of  them  smiled  when  I  said  this:  it  gave  me 
confidence. 

"  But  how  did  you  get  into  this  house?  "  Mr.  Jermyn 
asked. 

"  Please,  sir,"  I  answered,  "  I  saw  your  upper  window 
open.  So  I  laid  a  couple  of  planks  across  the  lane  from 
my  window.  Then  I  just  straddled  across,  sir." 

"  Are  you  used  to  burglary,  may  I  ask?  "  said  the 
Duke. 

"  No,  your  Majesty.  But  I  saw  the  ghosts.  I  wanted 
to  see  how  they  were  made." 

"  Well.  That's  one  for  you,  Jermyn,"  said  Lane. 
"  Your  ghosts  haven't  frightened  this  one." 

"  Sir,"  I  answered.     "  They  frightened  me  horribly. 


52  MARTIN  HYDE 

I  wanted  to  be  revenged  for  that.  But  after  a  bit  I 
was  sure  they  were  only  clockwork.  I  wanted  to  stop 
them.  I  did  stop  the  devil  upstairs,  sir." 

"  So  you  stopped  the  devil  upstairs/'  the  Duke  said. 
"  What  did  you  do  then?  " 

"  I  came  down  to  this  room,  sir.  I  looked  at  the  owl. 
But  I  couldn't  see  how  to  stop  the  owl,  sir.  I  saw  you 
all  sitting  round  the  room.  I'm  afraid  I  listened, 


sir." 


"  That  was  not  a  gentlemanly  thing  to  do,"  said  Lane. 
"  Was  it  now?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  You  understood  all  that  was  said.  Eh,  boy?  "  said 
Candlish. 

"  Yes,  sir.    I  understood  it  all." 

"  Well,  young  man,"  said  Falk.  "  You'll  be  sorry 
you  did." 

"  Be  quiet,  Falk,"  said  the  Duke.  "  No  one  shall  bully 
the  boy.  What's  your  name,  boy?  " 

"  Martin  Hyde,  sir." 

"  A  very  smart  lad  too,  sir,"  said  Jermyn.  "  He 
saved  my  book  of  cipher  correspondence  yesterday.  We 
should  have  been  in  trouble  if  that  had  got  into  the 
wrong  hands." 

"  You  understand,"  said  the  Duke,  "  that  what  you 
have  heard  might  get  us  all,  perhaps  many  more 
besides  ourselves,  into  very  terrible  danger  if  re- 
peated? " 


I  LEAVE  HOME  FOR  THE  LAST  TIME         53 

"  Yes,  your  Majesty,  I  understand,"  I  answered. 

"  Lock  him  into  the  pantry,  Jermyn,"  said  the  Duke, 
"  while  we  decide  what  to  do  with  him.  Go  with 
Mr.  Jermyn,  boy.  We  sha'n't  hurt  you.  Don't  be 
frightened  Give  him  some  oranges,  Jermyn." 


CHAPTER  V 

I  GO  TO  SEA 

MR.  JERMYN  led  me  to  the  pantry  (a  little  room  on 
the  ground  floor),  where  he  placed  a  plate  of  oranges 
before  me. 

"  See  how  many  you  can  eat,"  he  said.  "  But  don't 
try  to  burgle  yourself  free.  This  is  a  strong  room." 
He  locked  the  heavy  door,  leaving  me  alone  with  a 
well-filled  pantry,  which  seemed  to  be  without  a  window. 
A  little  iron  grating  near  the  ceiling  served  as  a  ventilator. 
There  was  no  chance  of^  getting  out  through  that.  The 
door  was  plated  with  iron.  The  floor  was  of  concrete. 
I  was  a  prisoner  now  in  good  earnest.  I  was  no  longer 
frightened;  but  I  had  had  such  scares  that  night  that 
I  had  little  stomach  for  the  fruit.  I  was  only  anxious 
to  be  allowed  to  go  back  to  my  bed.  I  heard  a  dull 
noise  in  the  upper  part  of  the  house,  followed  by  the 
falling  of  a  plank.  "  There  goes  my  bridge,"  I  thought. 
"  Are  they  going  to  be  so  mean  as  to  call  my  uncle  out 
of  bed,  to  show  him  what  I've  been  doing?  "  I  thought 
that  perhaps  they  would  do  this,  as  my  uncle  (for  all 
that  I  knew)  might  be  in  their  plot.  "  Well,"  I  said  to 
myself,  "  I  shall  get  a  good  thrashing.  Perhaps  that 


SEE    HOW    MANY    YOU    CAN    EAT,"    HE    SAID. 


Page  54 


I  GO  TO  SEA  55 

brute  Ephraim  will  be  told  to  thrash  me.  But  thrashing 
or  no,  I've  had  enough  of  going  out  at  night.  I'll  ask 
my  uncle  not  to  thrash  me;  but  to  put  me  into  the  Navy. 
I  should  love  that.  I  know  that  I  shall  never  get  on 
in  London."  This  sudden  plan  of  the  Navy,  about 
which  I  had  never  before  thought,  seemed  to  me  to 
be  a  good  way  of  getting  out  of  my  deserts.  I  felt  sure 
that  my  uncle  would  be  charmed  to  be  rid  of  me;  while 
I  knew  very  well  that  boys  of  that  generation  often 
entered  the  Navy,  in  the  care  of  the  captains,  as  naval 
cadets  (or,  as  they  were  then  called,  "  captain's  serv- 
ants "  )  at  the  ages  of  eight  or  nine.  I  wondered  why 
the  debate  lasted  so  long.  Naturally,  in  that  gloomy 
little  prison,  lit  by  a  single  tallow  candle,  with  all  my 
anxieties  heavy  on  my  mind,  the  time  passed  slowly. 
But  they  were  so  long  in  making  up  their  minds  that 
it  seemed  as  though  they  had  forgotten  me.  I  began 
to  remember  horrible  tales  of  people  shut  up  in  secret 
rooms  until  they  starved  to  death,  or  till  the  rats  ate 
them.  I  remembered  the  tale  of  the  nun  being  walled 
up  in  a  vault  of  her  convent,  brick  by  brick,  till  the  last 
brick  shut  off  the  last  glimmer  of  the  bricklayer's  lantern, 
till  the  last  layer  of  mortar  made  for  her  the  last  sound 
she  would  hear,  the  patting  clink  of  the  trowel  on  the 
brick,  before  it  was  all  horrible  dark  silence  for  ever. 
I  wondered  how  many  people  had  been  silenced  in  that 
way.  I  wondered  how  long  I  should  live,  if  that  was 
what  these  men  decided. 


56  MARTIN   HYDE 

My  fears  were  ended  by  the  opening  of  the  door. 
"  Come  on,"  said  Mr.  Lane.  "  This  way."  He  led  me 
back  to  the  council-room,  where  all  the  conspirators 
sat  at  their  places  by  the  table.  I  noticed  that  Mr. 
Jermyn  (cloaked  now,  as  for  travel)  was  wearing  his 
false  beard  again. 

"  Mr.  Hyde,"  the  Duke  said.  "  I  understand  that 
you  are  well  disposed  to  my  cause." 

"  Yes,  your  Majesty,"  I  answered;  though  indeed  I 
only  followed  what  my  father  had  told  me.  I  had  no 
real  knowledge  about  it,  one  way  or  the  other.  I  knew 
only  what  others  had  told  me.  Still,  in  this  instance, 
as  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  judge  by  what  I  learned 
long  afterwards,  I  was  right.  The  Duke  had  truly  a 
claim  to  the  throne;  he  was  also  a  better  man  than  that 
disgraceful  king  who  took  his  place. 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Hyde,"  the  Duke  answered.  "  Have 
you  any  objections  to  entering  my  service?  " 

I  was  not  very  sure  of  what  he  meant;  it  came  rather 
suddenly  upon  me,  so  I  stammered,  without  replying. 

"  His  Majesty  means,  would  you  like  to  join  our 
party?  "  said  Mr.  Lane.  "  To  be  one  of  us.  To  serve 
him  abroad." 

I  was  flushed  with  pleasure  at  the  thought  of  going 
abroad,  among  a  company  of  conspirators.  I  had  no 
knowledge  of  what  the  consequences  might  be,  except 
that  I  should  escape  a  sound  whipping  from  my  uncle 
or  from  Ephraim.  I  did  not  like  the  thought  of  living 


I  GO  TO  SEA  57 

on  in  London,  with  the  prospect  of  entering  a  mer- 
chant's office  at  the  end  of  my  boyhood.  I  thought  that 
in  the  Duke's  service  I  should  soon  become  a  general, 
so  that  I  might  return  to  my  uncle,  very  splendidly 
dressed,  to  show  him  how  well  I  had  managed  my  own 
life  for  myself.  I  thought  that  life  was  always  like  that 
to  the  adventurous  man.  Besides  I  hoped  that  I  should 
escape  school,  the  very  thought  of  which  I  hated. 
Looking  at  the  matter  in  that  secret  council-room,  it 
seemed  so  very  attractive.  It  seemed  to  give  me  a 
pathway  of  escape,  whichever  way  I  looked  at  it,  from 
all  that  I  most  disliked. 

"  Yes,  your  Majesty,"  I  said,  "  I  should  very  much 
like  to  enter  your  service." 

"  You  understand,  Hyde,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn,  "  that 
we  are  engaged  in  a  very  dangerous  work.  It  is  so 
dangerous  that  we  should  not  be  justified  in  allowing 
you  to  go  free  after  what  you  have  heard  tonight. 
But  its  very  danger  makes  it  necessary  that  we  should 
tell  you  something  of  what  your  work  under  his  Majesty 
will  be,  before  you  decide  finally  to  throw  in  your  lot 
with  us.  It  is  one  thing  to  be  a  prisoner  among  us, 
Hyde;  but  quite  another  to  be  what  is  called  a  rebel, 
engaged  in  treasonable  practices  against  a  ruling  King." 

"  Still,"  said  Lane,  "  don't  think  that  your  imprison- 
ment with  us  would  be  unpleasant.  If  you  would 
rather  not  join  us,  you  have  only  to  say  so.  We  shall 
then  send  you  over  to  Holland,  where  you  will,  no  doubt, 


58  MARTIN  HYDE 

find  plenty  of  boats  with  which  to  amuse  yourself. 
You  will  be  kept  in  Holland  till  a  certain  much- wished 
event  takes  place,  about  the  middle  of  June.  After 
that  you  will  be  brought  back  here  to  your  uncle,  who, 
by  that  time,  will  have  forgiven  you." 

"  That's  a  very  pretty  ladder  you  made,"  said  the 
Duke.  "  You've  evidently  lived  among  sailors." 

"  Among  fishermen  mostly,  your  Majesty,"  I  said. 
"  My  father  was  rector  in  the  Broads  country."  I 
knew  from  his  remark  that  someone  had  been  across 
to  my  uncle's  house  to  remove  all  traces  of  my  bridge. 
My  ladder,  I  knew,  would  now  be  dangling  from  my 
window,  to  show  by  which  way  I  had  escaped. 

"  We  want  you,  Hyde,"  Mr.  Jermyn  said.  "  That 
is  —  we  shall  want  you  in  the  event  of  your  joining  us, 
to  be  our  messenger  to  the  West.  You  will  travel  con- 
tinually from  Holland  to  the  West  of  England,  generally 
to  the  country  near  Taunton,  but  sometimes  to  Exeter, 
sometimes  still  further  to  the  West.  You  will  carry 
letters  sewn  into  the  flap  of  your  leather  travelling 
satchel.  You  will  travel  alone  by  your  own  name, 
giving  out,  in  case  any  one  should  ask  you,  that  you 
are  going  to  one  of  certain  people,  whose  names  will  be 
given  to  you.  There  will  be  no  danger  to  yourself; 
for  the  persons  to  whom  you  will  be  sent  are  not  sus- 
pected; indeed  one  of  them  is  a  clergyman.  We  think 
that  a  boy  will  have  less  difficulty  in  getting  about  the 
country  in  its  present  state  than  any  man,  provided, 


I  GO  TO  SEA  59 

of  course,  that  you  travel  by  different  routes  on  each 
journey.  If,  however,  by  some  extraordinary  chance, 
you  should  be  caught  with  these  letters  in  your  wallet, 
we  shall  take  steps  to  bring  you  off;  for  we  have  a  good 
deal  of  power,  hi  one  way  or  another,  by  which  we  get 
things  done.  Still,  it  may  well  fall  out,  Hyde,  in  spite 
of  all  our  care,  that  you  will  come  into  the  hands  of 
men  with  whom  we  have  no  influence.  If  you  should, 
(remember,  it  is  quite  possible)  you  will  be  transported, 
to  serve  in  one  of  the  Virginian  or  West  Indian  planta- 
tions. That  will  be  the  end  of  you  as  far  as  we  are 
concerned.  We  shan't  be  able  to  help  you  then.  If 
you  think  the  cause  is  right,  join  us,  provided  that  you 
do  not  think  the  risks  too  great." 

"  If  all  goes  well."  said  the  Duke,  "  if  the  summer 
should  prove  prosperous,  I  may  be  able  to  reward  a 
faithful  servant,  even  if  he  is  only  a  boy." 

"  I  will  serve  your  Majesty  gladly,"  I  answered.  "  I 
should  like  to  join  your  service." 

"  Very  well  then,  Jermyn,"  he  said,  rising  swiftly 
on  his  way  to  the  door;  "  bring  him  on^board  at  once." 

"  We're  off  to  Holland  tonight,  in  the  schooner 
there,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  So  put  these  biscuits  in 
your  pocket.  Give  him  another  glass  of  wine,  Falk. 
Now,  then.  Good-bye,  Lane.  Good-bye  everybody." 

"Good-bye,"  they  said.  "Good-bye,  boy."  In 
another  minute  we  were  in  the  narrow  road,  within 
earshot  of  the  tumbling  water,  going  down  to  the  stairs 


60  MARTIN  HYDE 

at  the  lane  end,  to  take  boat.  The  last  that  I  saw  of  my 
uncle's  house  was  the  white  of  my  ladder  ropes,  swinging 
about  against  the  darkness  of  the  bricks. 

"  Remember,  Hyde/'  said  Mr.  Jermyn  in  a  low  voice, 
"  that  his  Majesty  is  always  plain  Mr.  Scott.  Remember 
that.  Remember,  too,  that  you  are  never  to  speak  to 
him  unless  he  speaks  to  you.  But  you  won't  have  much 
to  do  with  him.  Were  you  ever  at  sea,  before?  " 

"  No,  sir.    Only  about  the  Broads  in  a  coracle." 

"You'll  find  it  very  interesting,  then.  If  you're 
not  seasick.  Here  we  are  at  the  boat.  Now,  jump  in. 
Get  into  the  bows." 

"  Mr.  Scott "  was  already  snug  under  a  boat-cloak 
in  the  sternsheets.  As  soon  as  we  had  stepped  in,  the 
boatman  shoved  off.  The  boat  rippled  the  water  into  a 
gleaming  track  as  she  gathered  way.  We  were  off.  I 
was  on  my  way  to  Holland.  I  was  a  conspirator,  travel- 
ling with  a  King.  There  ahead  of  me  was  the  fine  hull  of 
the  schooner  La  Reina,  waiting  to  carry  us  to  all  sorts 
of  adventure,  none  of  them  (as  I  planned  them  then) 
so  strange,  or  so  terrible,  as  those  which  happened  to 
me.  As  we  drew  up  alongside  her,  I  heard  the  clack- 
clack  of  the  sailors  heaving  at  the  windlass.  They 
were  getting  up  the  anchor,  so  that  we  might  sail  from 
this  horrible  city  to  all  the  wonderful  romance  which 
awaited  me,  as  I  thought,  beyond,  in  the  great  world. 
Five  minutes  after  I  had  stepped  upon  her  deck  we  were 
gliding  down  on  the  ebb,  bound  for  Holland. 


I  GO  TO  SEA  61 

"  Hyde/'  said  Mr.  Jermyn,  as  we  drew  past  the  battery 
on  the  Tower  platform,  "  do  you  see  the  high  ground, 
beyond  the  towers  there?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  said. 

"  Do  you  know  what  that  is?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  That's  Tower  Hill,"  he  answered,  "  where  traitors, 
I  mean  conspirators  like  you  or  me,  are  beheaded. 
Do  you  know  what  that  means?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  replied.    "  To  have  your  head  cut  off." 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "With  all  that  hill  black  with 
people.  The  scaffold  hung  with  black  making  a  sort, 
of  platform  in  the  middle.  Then  soldiers,  with  drums, 
all  round.  You  put  your  head  over  a  block,  so  that 
your  neck  rests  on  the  wood.  Then  the  executioner 
comes  at  you  with  an  axe.  Then  your  head  is  shown  to 
the  people.  '  This  is  the  head  of  a  traitor.'  We  may 
all  end  in  that  way,  on  that  little  hill  there.  You  must 
be  very  careful  how  you  carry  the  letters,  Hyde." 

After  this  hint,  he  showed  me  a  hammock  in  the 
schooner's  'tweendecks,  telling  me  that  I  should  soon 
be  accustomed  to  that  kind  of  bed.  "It  is  a  little 
awkward  at  first,"  he  said,  "  especially  the  getting  in 
part;  but,  when  once  snugly  in,  it  is  the  most  com- 
fortable kind  of  bed  in  the  world."  After  undressing 
by  the  light  of  a  huge  ship's  lantern,  which  Mr.  Jermyn 
called  a  battle-lantern,  I  turned  into  my  hammock, 
rather  glad  to  be  alone.  Now  that  I  was  pledged  to  this 


62  MARTIN   HYDE 

conspiracy  business,  with  some  knowledge  of  what  it 
might  lead  to,  I  half  wished  myself  well  out  of  it. 
The  'tweendecks  was  much  less  comfortable  than  the 
bedroom  which  I  had  left  so  gaily  such  a  very  little 
time  before.  I  had  exchanged  a  good  prison  for  a  bad 
one.  The  smell  of  oranges,  so  near  to  the  hold  in  which 
they  were  stored,  was  overpowering,  mixed,  as  it  was, 
with  the  horrible  ship-smell  of  decaying  water  (known 
as  bilge-water)  which  flopped  abc.ut  at  each  roll  a 
few  feet  below  me.  My  hammock  was  slung  in  a  draught 
from  the  main  hatchway.  People  came  down  the  hatch- 
way during  the  night  to  fetch  coils  of  rope  or  tackles. 
Tired  as  I  was,  I  slept  very  badly  that  first  night  on 
board  ship.  The  schooner  seemed  to  be  full  of  queer, 
unrelated  movements.  The  noise  of  the  water  slipping 
past  was  like  somebody  talking.  The  striking  of  the 
bells  kept  me  from  sleeping.  I  did  not  get  to  sleep  till 
well  into  the  middle  watch  (about  two  in  the  morn- 
ing) after  which  I  slept  brokenly  until  a  rough  voice 
bawled  in  my  ear  to  get  up  out  of  that,  as  it  was  time  to 
wash  down. 

I  put  my  clothes  on  hurriedly,  wondering  where  I 
should  find  a  basin  in  which  to  wash  myself.  I  could 
see  none  in  the  'tweendecks;  but  I  supposed  that  there 
would  be  some  in  the  cabins,  which  opened  off  the 
'tweendecks  on  each  side.  Now  a  'tweendecks  (I  may 
as  well  tell  you  here)  is  nothing  more  than  a  deck  of 
a  ship  below  the  upper  deck.  If  some  of  my  readers 


I  GO  TO  SEA  63 

have  never  been  in  a  ship,  let  them  try  to  imagine 
themselves  descending  from  the  upper  deck  —  where 
all  the  masts  stand  —  by  a  ladder  fixed  in  a  square 
opening  known  as  a  hatchway.  About  six  feet  down 
this  ladder  is  the  'tweendecks,  a  long  narrow  room, 
with  a  ceiling  so  low  that  unless  you  bend,  you  bump 
your  head  against  the  beams.  If  you  will  imagine  a 
long  narrow  room,  only  six  feet  high,  you  will  know 
what  a  'tweendecks  is  like.  Only  in  a  real  'tweendecks 
it  is  always  rather  dark,  for  the  windows  (if  you  care 
to  call  them  so)  are  thick  glass  bull's-eyes  which  let  in 
very  little  light.  A  glare  of  light  comes  down  the 
hatchways.  Away  from  the  hatchways  a  few  battle- 
lanterns  are  hung,  to  keep  up  some  pretence  of  light  in 
the  darkest  corners.  At  one  end  of  this  long  narrow 
room  in  La  Reina  a  wooden  partition,  running  right 
across  from  side  to  side,  made  a  biggish  chamber  called 
"  the  cabin,"  where  the  officers  took  their  meals.  A 
little  further  along  the  room,  one  on  each  side  of  it, 
were  two  tiny  partitioned  cabins,  about  seven  feeb 
square,  in  which  the  officers  slept,  two  in  each  cabin 
one  above  the  other,  in  shelf-beds,  or  bunks.  My 
hammock  had  been  slung  between  these  cabins,  a 
little  forward  of  them.  When  I  turned  out,  I  saw  that 
the  rest  of  the  'tweendecks  was  piled  with  stores  of  all 
kinds,  lashed  down  firmly  to  ringbolts.  Right  forward, 
in  the  darkness  of  the  ship's  bows,  I  saw  other  hammocks 
where  the  sailors  slept. 


64  MARTIN  HYDE 

I  was  wondering  what  I  was  to  do  about  washing, 
when  the  rough  man  who  had  called  me  a  few  minutes 
before  came  down  to  ask  me  why  I  was  not  up  on  deck. 
I  said  that  I  was  wondering  where  I  could  wash  myself. 

"  Wash  yourself,"  he  said.  "  You  haven't  made 
yourself  dirty  yet.  You  don't  wash  at  sea  till  your 
work's  done  for  the  day.  Why,  haven't  you  lashed  your 
hammock  yet?  " 

"  Please,  sir,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  know  how." 

"  Well,  for  once,"  he  said,  "  I'll  show  you  how. 
Tomorrow  you'll  do  it  for  yourself." 

"  There,"  he  said,  when  he  had  lashed  up  the  ham- 
mock, by  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  art-magic,  "  don't 
you  say  you  don't  know  how  to  lash  a  'ammick.  I've 
showed  you  once.  Now  shove  it  in  the  rack  there.  Up 
on  deck  with  you." 

I  ran  up  the  ladder  to  the  deck,  thinking  that  this 
was  not  at  all  the  kind  of  service  which  I  had  expected. 
When  I  got  to  the  deck  I  felt  happier ;  for  it  was  a  lovely 
bright  morning.  The  schooner  was  under  all  sail, 
tearing  along  at  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  great  speed. 
We  were  out  at  sea  now.  England  lay  behind  us,  some 
miles  away.  I  could  see  the  windows  gleaming  in  a 
little  town  on  the  shore.  Ships  were  in  sight,  with 
rollers  of  foam  whitening  under  them.  Gulls  dipped 
after  fish.  The  clouds  drove  past.  A  fishing  boat 
piled  with  fish  was  labouring  up  to  London,  her  sails 
dark  with  spray.  On  the  deck  of  the  schooner  some 


I  GO  TO  SEA  65 

barefooted  sailors  were  filling  the  wash-deck  tubs  at 
a  hand-pump.  One  man  was  at  work  high  aloft  on  the 
topsail  yard,  sitting  across  the  yard  with  his  legs  dangling 
down,  keeping  his  seat  (as  I  thought)  by  balance.  I 
found  the  scene  so  delightful  that  I  gazed  at  it  like  a 
boy  in  a  trance.  I  was  still  staring,  when  the  surly 
boor  who  had  called  me  (he  was  the  schooner's  mate  it 
seemed)  came  up  behind  me. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  in  the  rough,  bullying  speech  of  a 
sailor,  "  do  ye  see  it?  " 

"  See  what,  sir?  " 

"  What  you're  looking  at." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"  Then  you  got  no  butter  in  your  eyes,  then.  Why 
ain't  you  at  work?  " 

"  What  am  I  to  do,  sir?  " 

"  Do,"  he  said.    "  Ain't  you  Mr.  Scott's  servant?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  get  a  bucket  of  fresh  water  out  of  the  cask 
there.  Take  this  scrubber.  You'll  find  some  soap  in 
the  locker  there.  Now  scrub  out  the  cabin  as  quick 
as  you  know  how." 

He  showed  me  down  to  the  cabin.  It  was  a  dingy, 
dirty  little  room  about  twelve  feet  square  over  all, 
but  made,  in  reality,  much  smaller  by  the  lockers  which 
ran  along  each  side. 

It  was  lighted  by  two  large  wooden  ports,  known  as 
"  chase  ports,"  through  which  the  chase  guns  or  "  stern- 


66  MARTIN  HYDE 

chasers  "  pointed.  Only  one  gun  (a  long  three  pounder 
on  a  swivel)  was  mounted;  for  guns  take  up  a  lot. of 
room.  With  two  guns  in  that  little  cabin  there  would 
not  have  been  room  enough  to  swing  a  cat.  You  need 
six  feet  for  the  proper  swinging  of  a  cat,  so  a  man-of-war 
boatswain  told  me.  The  cat  meant  is  the  cat  of  nine 
tails  with  which  they  used  to  flog  seamen.  To  flog 
properly  one  needs  a  good  swing,  so  my  friend  said. 

"  There  you  are,"  said  the  mate  of  the  schooner. 
"  Now  down  on  your  knees.  Scrub  the  floor  here.  See 
you  get  it  mucho  bianco." 

He  left  me  feeling  much  ashamed  at  having  to  work 
like  a  common  ship's  boy,  instead  of  like  a  prince's 
page,  which  is  what  I  had  thought  myself.  Like  many 
middle-class  English  boys  I  had  been  brought  up  to 
look  on  manual  work  as  degrading.  I  was  filled  with 
shame  at  having  to  scrub  this  dirty  deck.  I,  who,  only 
yesterday,  had  lorded  it  over  Ephraim,  as  though  I 
were  a  superior  being.  You  boys  who  go  to  good  schools 
try  to  learn  a  little  humbleness.  You  may  think  your 
parents  very  fine  gentlefolk;  but  in  the  world,  outside 
a  narrow  class,  the  having  gentle  parents  will  not  help 
one  much.  It  may  be  that  you,  for  all  your  birth, 
have  neither  the  instincts  nor  the  intellect  to  preserve 
the  gentility  your  parents  made  for  you.  You  are  no 
gentleman  till  you  have  proved  it.  Your  right  level 
may  be  the  level  of  the  betting  publican,  or  of  the 
sneak-thief,  or  of  things  even  lower  than  these.  It  is 


I  GO  TO  SEA  67 

nothing  to  be  proud  of  that  your  parents  are  rich  enough 
to  keep  your  hands  clean  of  joyless,  killing  toil,  at 
an  age  when  many  better  men  are  old  in  slavery.  Try  to 
be  thankful  for  it;  not  proud.  Leisure  is  the  most  sacred 
thing  life  has.  A  wise  man  would  give  his  left  hand 
for  leisure.  You  that  have  it  given  to  you  by  the  mercy 
of  gentle  birth,  regard  it  as  a  trust;  make  noble  use  of 
it.  Many  great  men  waste  half  their  energies  in  the 
struggle  for  that  which  you  regard,  poor  fools,  as  your 
right,  as  something  to  brag  of. 

I  had  never  scrubbed  a  floor  in  my  life;  but  I  had 
seen  it  done,  without  taking  much  account  of -the  art 
in  it.  I  set  to  work,  feeling  more  degraded  each  moment, 
as  the  hardness  of  the  deck  began  to  make  my  knees 
sore.  When  I  had  done  about  half  of  the  cabin  (in  a 
lazy,  neglectful  way,  leaving  patches  unscrubbed,  only 
just  wetted  over,  so  as  to  seem  clean  to  a  chance  observer) 
I  thought  that  I  would  do  no  more;  but  wait  till  Mr. 
Jermyn  came  to  me.  I  would  tell  him  that  I  wished 
to  go  home,  that  I  was  not  going  to  be  a  common  sailor, 
but  a  trusted  messenger,  with  a  lot  more  to  the  same 
tune,  meaning,  really,  that  I  hated  this  job  of  washing 
decks  like  poison.  I  daresay,  if  the  truth  were  known, 
the  sudden  change  in  my  fortunes  had  made  me  a  little 
homesick.  But  even  so,  I  was  skulking  work  which 
had  been  given  to  me.  What  was  worse,  I  was  being 
dishonest.  For  I  was  pretending  to  do  the  work,  even 
when  I  took  least  trouble  with  it.  At  last  I  took 


68  MARTIN  HYDE 

it  into  my  head  to  wet  the  whole  floor  with  water, 
meaning  to  do  no  more  to  it.  While  I  was  doing  this 
the  mate  came  into  the  cabin. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said.  "  I've  been  watching  you. 
You  ain't  working.  You're  skulking.  You  ain't  trying 
to  wash  that  deck.  You're  making  believe,  thinking 
I  won't  know  any  different.  Don't  answer  me.  I  know 
what  you're  doing.  Now  then.  You  go  over  every  bit 
of  that  deck  which  you've  just  slopped  at.  Do  it  over. 
I'm  going  to  stand  here  till  it's  done." 

It  was  in  my  mind  to  be  rebellious;  but  this  man  did 
not  look  like  a  good  man  to  rebel  from.  He  was  a 
big  grim  sailor  with  a  length  of  rope  in  his  hand.  He 
called  it  his  "  manrope."  "  You  see  my  manrope,"  he 
said.  "  His  name's  Mogador  Jack.  He  likes  little 
skulks  like  you."  Afterwards  I  learned  that  a  manrope 
is  the  rope  rail  at  a  ship's  gangway,  or  (sometimes)  a 
length  of  rope  in  the  gangway-side  for  boatmen  to 
catch  as  they  came  alongside  the  ship.  I  did  not  like 
the  look  of  Mogador  Jack,  so  I  went  at  my  scrubbing 
with  all  my  strength,  keeping  my  thoughts  to  myself. 
My  knees  felt  very  sore.  My  back  ached  with  the  con- 
tinual bending  down.  I  had  had  no  food  that  morning, 
either,  that  was  another  thing.  "  Spell,  oh,"  said  the 
man  at  last.  "  Straighten  your  back  a  bit.  Empty 
your  bucket  over  the  side.  No.  Not  through  the  stern- 
port.  Carry  it  on  deck.  Empty  it  there.  Then  fill  it 
again.  Lively,  too.  It'll  be  breakfast  time  before 


I  GO  TO  SEA  69 

you've  done.    You've  got  to  have  this  cabin  ready  by 
eight  bells." 

I  will  not  tell  you  how  I  finished  the  deck.  I  will  say 
only  this,  that  at  the  end  I  began  to  take  a  sort  of  pride 
or  pleasure  in  making  the  planks  white.  Afterwards,  I 
always  found  that  there  is  this  pleasure  in  manual  work. 
There  is  always  pleasure  of  a  sort  in  doing  anything  that 
is  not  very  easy.  "  There,"  the  mate  said.  "  Now  lay 
the  table  for  breakfast.  You'll  find  the  things  in  them 
lockers.  Lay  for  three  places.  Don't  break  the  ship's 
crockery  while  you're  doing  it." 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  SEA!  THE  SEA! 

HE  left  me,  then,  as  he  had  to  watch  the  men  on 
deck.  I  felt,  when  he  went  on  deck,  that  the  morning 
had  been  a  nightmare;  but  now  I  was  to  be  flunkey  as 
well  as  slave,  a  new  humiliation.  I  did  not  think  how 
many  times  I  had  humiliated  others  by  letting  them  do 
such  things  for  me.  I  had  done  so  all  my  life  without  a 
thought.  Now,  forsooth,  I  was  at  the  point  of  tears  at 
having  to  do  it  for  others,  even  though  one  of  the  others 
was  my  rightful  King.  Grubbing  about  among  the 
lockers,  I  found  a  canvas  table-cloth,  which  had  once 
been  part  of  a  sail.  I  spread  this  cloth  with  the  break- 
fast gear,  imitating  the  arrangements  made  at  home  at 
Oulton.  The  mate  came  down  some  minutes  after  I  had 
finished.  He  caught  me  sitting  down  on  the  top  of  the 
lockers,  looking  out  at  the  ships  through  the  open  port. 

"  Here,"  he  said  roughly.  "  You've  got  to  learn 
manners,  or  I'll  have  to  teach  you.  Remember 
this,  once  for  all,  my  son.  No  one  sits  in  the  cabin 
except  a  captain  or  a  passenger.  You'll  take  your  cap 
off  to  the  cabin  door  before  I've  done  with  you.  Nor 
you  don't  sit  down  till  your  work's  done.  That's  another 
thing.  Why  ain't  you  at  work?  " 


1     BU  'UM,    SPATTERING    THE    SLUSH    ALL    OVER    HIM. 

Page  71 


THE  SEA!   THE  SEA!  71 

"  Please,  sir,"  I  said,  "  I've  laid  the  table.  What 
else  am  I  to  do?  " 

"  Do,"  he  said.  "  Give  the  windows  a  rub.  Then 
clean  your  hands,  ready  to  wait  at  table.  No.  Hold 
on.  Have  you  called  Mr.  Scott  yet?  " 

"  No,  sir.    I  didn't  know  I  had  to." 

"  My,"  he  answered.  "  Have  you  any  sense  at  all? 
Go  call  them.  No.  Get  their  hot  water  first  at  the 
galley." 

I  suppose  I  stared  at  him;  for  I  did  not  know  that 
this  would  be  a  duty  of  mine.  "  Here.  Don't  look 
at  me  like  that,"  he  said.  "  You  make  me  forget 
myself."  He  went  to  the  locker,  in  which  he  rum- 
maged till  he  produced  a  big  copper  kettle.  "  Here's 
the  hot  water  can,"  he  said.  "  Nip  with  it  to  the 
galley,  before  the  cook  puts  his  fire  out.  On  deck, 
boy.  Don't  you  know  where  the  galley  is?  " 

I  did  not  know  where  the  galley  was  in  this  particular 
ship.  I  thought  that  it  would  probably  be  below  decks, 
round  a  space  of  brick  floor  to  prevent  fire.  But  as  the 
mate  said  "  on  deck  "  I  ran  on  deck  at  once.  I  ran  on 
deck,  up  the  hatch,  so  vigorously,  that  I  charged  into  a 
seaman  who  was  carrying  a  can  of  slush,  or  melted  salt 
fat  used  in  the  greasing  of  ropes.  I  butted  into  him, 
spattering  the  slush  all  over  him,  besides  making  a 
filthy  mess  of  grease  on  the  deck,  then  newly  cleansed. 
The  seaman,  who  was  the  boatswain  or  second  mate, 
boxed  my  ears  with  a  couple  of  cuffs  which  made  my 


72  MARTIN   HYDE 

head  sing.  "  You  young  hound,"  he  said,  "  Cubbadar 
when  your  chief  passes."  I  went  forward  to  the  galley, 
crying  as  if  my  heart  would  break,  not  only  at  the 
pain  of  the  blows,  which  stung  me  horribly,  but  at  the 
misery  of  my  life  in  this  new  service,  that  had  seemed 
so  grand  only  seven  or  eight  hours  before.  At  the  galley 
door  was  the  cook,  a  morose  little  Londoner  with  ear- 
rings in  his  ears.  "  Miaow,  Miaow,"  he  said,  pretending 
to  mimic  my  sobs.  "  Why  haven't  you  come  for  this 
'ot  water  before?  'Ere  'ave  I  been  keepin'  my  fire  lit 
while  you  been  en  joy  in'  a  stuffin'  loaf,  down  in  that 
there  cabin."  I  was  too  miserable  to  answer  him.  I 
just  held  out  my  kettle,  thinking  that  he  would  fill  it 
for  me.  "  Wot  are  you  'oldin'  out  the  kettle  for?  "  he 
asked.  "  Think  I'm  goin'  to  do  yer  dirty  work?  Fill 
it  at  the  'ob  yourself."  I  filled  it  as  he  bade  me,  choking 
down  my  tears.  When  I  had  filled  it,  I  hurried  back 
to  the  'tweendecks,  hoping  to  hide  my  misery  down 
in  the  semi-darkness  there.  I  did  not  pass  the  second 
mate  on  my  way  back;  but  I  passed  some  of  the 
seamen,  to  whom  a  boy  in  tears  was  fair  game.  One 
asked  me  what  I  meant  by  coming  aft  all  salt,  like  a 
head  sea,  making  the  deck  wet  after  he'd  squeegeed  it 
down.  Another  told  me  to  wait  till  the  second  mate 
caught  me.  "  I'd  be  sorry  then,"  he  said,  "  that  ever 
I  spilt  the  slush ;  "  with  other  sea- jests,  all  of  them  pretty 
brutal.  It  is  said  that  if  a  strange  rook  comes  to  a 
rookery  the  other  rooks  peck  it  to  death,  or  at  any 


THE  SEA!    THE  SEA!  73 

rate  drive  it  away.  I  know  not  if  this  be  true  of  rooks 
(I  know  that  sparrows  will  attack  owls  or  canaries, 
whenever  they  have  a  chance),  but  it  is  true  enough  of 
human  beings.  We  all  hate  the  new-comer,  we  are  all 
suspicious  of  him,  as  of  a  possible  enemy.  The  seamen 
did  to  me  what  school-boys  do  to  the  new  boy.  I 
did  not  know  then  that  there  is  no  mercy  for  one  sensitive 
enough  to  take  such  "  jests  "  to  heart.  At  sea,  the 
rough,  ready  torn-fool  boy  is  the  boy  to  thrive.  Such 
an  one  might  have  spilt  all  the  slush  in  the  ship,  without 
getting  so  much  as  a  cuff.  I  was  a  merry  boy  enough, 
but  I  was  sad  when  I  made  my  first  appearance.  The 
sailors  saw  me  crying.  If  I  had  only  had  the  wit  to 
dodge  the  bosun's  blows,  the  matter  of  the  slush  would 
have  been  turned  off  with  a  laugh,  since  be  only  struck 
me  in  the  irritation  of  the  moment.  He  would  have 
enjoyed  chasing  me  round  the  deck.  If  I  had  only  come 
up  merrily  that  is  what  would  have  happened.  As 
it  was  I  came  up  sad,  with  the  result  that  I  got  my  ears 
boxed,  which,  of  course,  made  me  too  wretched  to  put 
the  cook  in  a  good  temper;  a  cause  of  much  woe  to 
me  later.  The  seamen  who  saw  me  crying  at  once 
put  me  down  as  a  cry-baby,  which  I  really  was  not; 
so  that,  for  the  rest  of  my  time  in  the  ship  I  was  cruelly 
misjudged.  I  hope  that  my  readers  will  remember  how 
little  a  thing  may  make  a  great  difference  in  a  person's 
life.  I  hope  that  they  will  also  remember  how  easy  it 
is  to  misjudge  a  person.  It  will  be  well  for  them  if, 


74  MARTIN  HYDE 

as  I  trust,  they  may  never  experience  how  terrible  it 
feels  to  be  misjudged. 

After  I  had  called  the  two  gentlemen,  I  gave  the  glass 
bull's-eyes  in  the  swing  ports  a  rub  with  a  cloth.  I  was 
at  work  in  this  way  when  the  two  gentlemen  entered. 
Mr.  Jermyn  smiled  to  see  me  with  my  coat  off,  rubbing 
at  the  glass.  He  also  wished  me  good  morning,  which 
Mr.  Scott  failed  to  do.  Mr.  Scott  took  no  notice  of  me 
one  way  or  the  other;  but  sat  down  at  the  locker,  asking 
when  breakfast  would  be  ready.  "  Get  breakfast,  boy," 
Mr.  Jermyn  said.  At  that  I  put  my  glass-rag  into  the 
locker.  I  hurried  off  to  the  galley  to  bring  the  breakfast, 
not  knowing  rightly  whether  it  would  be  there  or  in 
another  place.  The  cook,  surly  brute,  made  a  lot  of 
offensive  remarks  to  me,  to  which  I  made  no  answer. 
He  was  glad  to  have  someone  to  bully,  for  he  had  the 
common  man's  love  of  power,  with  all  his  hatred  of 
anything  more  polished  than  himself.  I  took  the 
breakfast  aft  to  the  cabin,  where,  by  this  time,  the 
ship's  captain  was  seated.  I  placed  the  dish  before 
Mr.  Jermyn. 

"  Why  haven't  you  washed  your  hands,  boy?  "  he 
asked,  looking  at  my  hands. 

"  Please,  sir,  I  haven't  had  time." 

"  Wash  them  now,  then.  Don't  come  to  wait  at 
table  with  hands  like  that  again.  I  didn't  think  you 
were  a  dirty  boy." 

I  was  not  a  dirty  boy;   but,  having  been  at  work 


THE  SEA!   THE  SEA!  75 

since  before  six  that  morning,  I  had  had  no  chance  of 
washing  myself.  I  could  not  answer;  but  the  injustice 
of  Mr.  Jermyn's  words  gave  me  some  of  the  most  bitter 
misery  which  I  have  known.  For  brutal,  thoughtless 
injustice,  it  is  difficult  to  beat  the  merchant  ship.  I 
stole  away  to  wash  myself,  very  glad  of  the  chance  to 
get  away  from  the  cabin.  When  I  was  ready,  it  was 
time  to  clear  the  breakfast  things  to  the  galley,  to  wash 
them  with  the  cook.  Luckily,  I  had  overheard  Mr. 
Jermyn  say  "  how  well  this  cook  can  devil  kidneys." 
I  repeated  this  to  the  cook,  who  was  pleased  to  hear  it. 
It  made  him  rather  more  kind  in  his  manner  to  me.  He 
did  not  know  who  Mr.  Scott  really  was.  He  asked  me 
a  lot  of  questions  about  what  I  knew  of  Mr.  Scott.  I 
replied  that  I'd  heard  that  he  was  a  Spanish  merchant, 
a  friend  of  Mr.  Jermyn's.  As  for  Mr.  Jermyn,  he  knew 
an  uncle  of  mine.  I  had  helped  him  to  recover  his 
pocket-book;  that  was  all  that  I  knew  of  him;  that 
was  why  he  had  given  me  my  present  post  as  servant. 
More  I  dared  not  say;  for  I  remembered  the  Duke's 
sharp  sword  on  my  chest.  We  talked  thus,  as  we  washed 
the  dishes;  the  cook  in  a  sweeter  mood  (having  had 
his  morning  dram  of  brandy);  I,  myself,  trying  hard 
to  win  him  to  a  good  opinion  of  me.  I  asked  him  if  I 
might  clean  his  copper  for  him;  it  was  in  a  sad  state  of 
dirt.  "  You'll  have  work  enough  'ere,  boy,"  he  said, 
tartly,  "  without  you  running  round  for  more.  You 
mind  your  own  business,"  After  this  little  snap  at  my 


76  MARTIN  HYDE 

head  (no  thought  of  thanks  occurred  to  him)  he  pre- 
pared breakfast  for  us,  out  of  the  remains  of  the  cabin 
breakfast.  I  was  much  cheered  by  the  prospect  of 
food,  for  nearly  three  hours  of  hard  work  had  given 
me  an  appetite.  At  a  word  from  the  cook,  I  brought 
out  two  little  stools  from  under  the  bunk.  Then  I 
placed  the  "  bread-barge/'  or  wooden  bowl  of  ship's 
biscuits,  ready  for  our  meal,  beside  our  two  plates. 
Breakfast  was  just  about  to  begin,  when  my  enemy, 
the  boatswain,  appeared  at  the  galley  door.  "  Here, 
cook/'  he  said,  "  where's  that  limb  of  a  boy?  Oh,  you're 
there,  are  you?  Feeding  your  face.  Get  a  three-cornered 
scraper  right  now.  You'll  scrape  up  that  slush  you 
spilled,  before  you  eat  so  much  as  a  reefer's  nut."  I 
had  to  go  on  deck  again  for  another  hour,  while  I  scraped 
up  the  slush,  which  was,  surely,  spilled  as  much  by 
himself  as  by  me,  since  he  was  not  looking  where  he 
was  going  any  more  than  I  was.  I  got  no  breakfast. 
For  after  the  grease  was  cleaned  I  was  sent  to  black  the 
gentlemen's  boots;  then  to  make  up  their  beds;  then 
to  scrub  their  cabin  clean.  After  all  this,  being  faint 
with  hunger,  I  took  a  ship's  biscuit  from  the  locker  in 
the  cabin  to  eat  as  I  worked.  I  did  not  know  it;  but 
this  biscuit  was  what  is  known  as  "  captain's  bread," 
a  whiter  (but  less  pleasant)  kind  of  ship's  biscuit, 
baked  for  officers.  As  I  was  eating  it  (I  was  polishing 
the  cabin  door-knobs  at  the  time)  the  captain  came 
down  for  a  dram  of  brandy.  He  saw  what  I  was  eating. 


THE  SEA!   THE  SEA!  77 

At  once  he  read  me  a  lecture,  calling  me  a  greedy  young 
thief.  Let  me  not  eat  another  cabin  biscuit,  he  said, 
or  he'd  do  to  me  what  they  always  did  to  thieves :  — 
drag  them  under  the  ship  from  one  side  to  another, 
so  that  the  barnacles  would  cut  them  (as  he  said)  into 
Spanish  sennet-work.  When  I  answered  him,  he  lost 
his  temper,  in  sailor  fashion,  saying  that  if  I  said  an- 
other word  he'd  make  me  sick  that  ever  I  learned  to 
speak. 

I  will  not  go  into  the  details  of  the  rest  of  that 
first  day's  misery.  I  was  kept  hard  at  work  for  the 
whole  time  of  daylight,  often  at  work  beyond  my 
strength,  always  at  work  quite  strange  to  me.  Nobody 
in  the  ship,  except  perhaps  the  mate,  troubled  to  show 
me  how  to  do  these  strange  tasks;  but  all  swore  at 
me  for  not  doing  them  rightly.  What  I  felt  most 
keenly  was  the  injustice  of  their  verdicts  upon  me.  I 
was  being  condemned  by  them  as  a  dirty,  snivelling, 
lying,  thieving  young  hound.  They  took  a  savage 
pleasure  in  telling  me  how  I  should  come  to  dance  on 
air  at  Cuckold's  Haven,  or,  in  other  words,  to  the 
gallows,  if  I  went  on  as  I  had  begun.  Whereas  (but 
for  my  dishonest  moment  in  the  morning)  I  had  worked 
like  a  slave  since  dawn  under  every  possible  disad- 
vantage which  hasty  men  could  place  in  my  way.  After 
serving  the  cabin  supper  that  night  I  was  free  to  go  to 
my  hammock.  There  was  not  much  to  be  glad  for, 
except  the  rest  after  so  much  work.  I  went  with  a  glad 


78  MARTIN  HYDE 

heart,  for  I  was  tired  out.  The  wind  had  drawn  to 
the  east,  freshening  as  it  came  ahead,  so  that  there  was 
no  chance  of  our  reaching  our  destination  for  some 
days.  I  had  the  prospect  of  similar  daily  slavery  in 
the  schooner  at  least  till  our  arrival.  My  nights  would 
be  my  only  pleasant  hours  till  then.  The  noise  of  the 
waves  breaking  on  board  the  schooner  kept  me  awake 
during  the  night,  tired  as  I  was.  It  is  a  dreadful  noise, 
when  heard  for  the  first  time.  I  did  not  then  know 
what  a  mass  of  water  can  come  aboard  a  ship  without 
doing  much  harm.  So,  when  the  head  of  a  wave, 
rushing  across  the  deck,  came  with  a  swish  down  the 
hatch  to  wash  the  'tweendecks  I  started  up  in  my 
hammock,  pretty  well  startled.  I  soon  learned  that  all 
was  well,  for  I  heard  the  sailors  laughing  in  their  rough, 
swearing  fashion  as  they  piled  a  tarpaulin  over  the 
open  hatch-mouth.  A  moment  later,  eight  bells  were 
struck.  Some  of  the  sailors  having  finished  their  watch, 
came  down  into  the  'tweendecks  to  rest.  Two  of  them 
stepped  very  quietly  to  the  chest  below  my  hammock, 
where  they  sat  down  to  play  at  cards,  by  the  light  of 
the  nearest  battle-lantern.  If  they  had  made  a  noise 
I  should  probably  have  fallen  asleep  again  in  a  few 
minutes;  for  what  would  one  rough  noise  have  been 
among  all  the  noise  on  deck?  But  they  kept  very  quiet, 
talking  in  low  voices  as  they  called  the  cards,  rapping 
gently  on  the  chest-lid,  opening  the  lantern  gently  to 
get  lights  for  their  pipes,  Their  quietness  was  like  the 


THE  SEA!    THE  SEA!  79 

stealthy  approach  of  an  enemy,  it  kept  a  restless  man 
awake,  just  as  the  snapping  of  twigs  in  a  forest  will 
keep  an  Indian  awake,  while  he  will  sleep  soundly  when 
trees  are  falling.  I  kept  awake,  too,  in  spite  of  myself 
(or  half  awake),  wishing  that  the  men  would  go,  but 
fearing  to  speak  to  them.  At  last,  fearing  that  I  should 
never  get  to  sleep  at  all,  I  looked  over  the  edge  of  the 
hammock  intending  to  ask  them  to  go.  I  saw  then  that 
one  of  them  was  my  enemy  the  boatswain,  while  the 
other  was  the  ship's  carpenter,  who  had  eaten  supper 
in  the  galley  with  me,  at  the  cook's  invitation.  As 
these  were,  in  a  sense,  officers,  I  dared  not  open  my 
mouth  to  them,  so  I  lay  down  again,  hoping  that  either 
they  would  go  soon,  or  that  they  would  let  me  get  to 
sleep  before  the  morning.  As  I  lay  there,  I  overheard 
their  talk.  I  could  not  help  it.  I  could  hear  every  word 
spoken  by  them.  I  did  not  want  their  talk,  goodness 
knows,  but  as  I  could  not  help  it,  I  listened. 

"  Heigho,"  said  the  boatswain,  yawning.  "  I  sha'n't 
have  much  to  spend  on  Hollands  when  I  get  there. 
Them  rubbers  at  bowls  in  London  have  pretty  near 
cleaned  my  purse  out." 

"  Ah,  come  off,"  said  the  carpenter.  "  You  can  always 
get  rid  of  a  coil  of  rope  to  someone,  on  the  sly,  you  boat- 
swains can.  A  coil  of  rope  comes  to  a  few  guilders.  Eh, 
mynheer?  " 

"I  sold  too  many  coils  off  this  hooker,"  said  the 
boatswain.  "  I  run  the  ship  short." 


80  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Who  sleeps  in  the  hammock  there?  "  the  carpenter 
asked. 

"  The  loblolly  boy  for  the  cabin,"  the  boatswain 
answered.  "  Young  clumsy  hound.  I  clumped  his 
fat  chops  for  him  this  morning." 

"  Mr.  Jermyn's  boy?  "  said  the  carpenter,  sinking  his 
voice.  "  There's  something  queer  about  that  Mr. 
Jermyn.  'E  wears  a  false  beard.  That  Mr.  Scott  isn't 
all  what  he  pretends  neither." 

"  I  don't  see  how  that  can  be,"  the  boatswain  said, 
"  I  wish  I'd  a  drink  of  something.  I'm  as  dry  as  a 
foul  block." 

"  There'd  be  more'n  a  dram  to  us  two,  if  Mr.  Scott 
was  what  I  think,"  said  the  carpenter.  "  I'm  going  to 
keep  my  eye  on  that  gang." 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  the  moon,"  said  the  boat- 
swam.  "  I  tell  you  what'd  raise  drinks  pretty 
quick." 

"  What  would?  " 

"  That  loblolly  boy  would." 

"  Eh?  "  said  the  carpenter.  "  Go  easy,  Joe.  He  may 
be  awake." 

"Not  he,"  said  the  boatswain,  carelessly  glancing 
into  my  hammock,  where  I  lay  like  all  the  Seven  Sleepers 
condensed.  "  Not  he.  Snoring  young  hound.  Do  him 
good  to  raise  drinks  for  the  crowd." 

"  Eh,"  said  the  carpenter,  a  quieter,  more  cautious 
scoundrel  than  the  other  (therefore  much  more  dan- 


THE  SEA!   THE  SEA!  81 

gerous).  "  How  would  a  boy  like  that?  "  He  left  his 
sentence  unfinished. 

"  Sell  him  to  one  of  these  Dutch  East  India  mer- 
chants/' said  the  boatswain.  "  There's  always  one  or 
two  of  them  in  the  Canal,  bound  for  Java.  A  likely 
young  lad  like  that  would  fetch  twenty  pounds  from  a 
Dutch  skipper.  A  white  boy  would  sell  for  forty  in  the 
East.  Even  if  we  only  got  ten,  there^l  be  pretty  drink- 
ing while  it  lasted."  r 

This  evidently  made  an  impression  on  the  carpenter, 
for  he  did  not  answer  at  once.  "  Yes,"  he  said  presently. 
"  But  a  lad  like  that's  got  good  friends.  He  don't  talk 
like  you  or  I,  Joe." 

"  Friends  in  your  eye,"  said  the  other.  "  What's 
a  lad  with  good  friends  doing  as  loblolly  boy?  " 

"  Run  away,"  the  carpenter  said.  "  Besides,  Mr. 
Jermyn  isn't  likely  to  let  the  lad  loose  hi  Haarlem." 

"  He  might.  We  could  keep  a  watch,"  the  boatswain 
answered.  "  If  he  goes  ashore,  we  could  tip  off  Long- 
shore Jack  to  keep  an  eye  on  him.  Jack  gets  good 
chances,  working  the  town." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other.  "  I  mean  to  put  Longshore 
Jack  on  to  this  Mr.  Jermyn.  If  I  aren't  foul  of  the  buoy 
there's  money  in  Mr.  Jermyn.  More  than  in  East 
Indian  slaves." 

"  Oh,"  the  boatswain  answered,  carelessly,  "  I  don't 
bother  about  my  betters,  myself.  What  d'ye  think 
to  get  from  Mr.  Jermyn?  " 


82  MARTIN  HYDE 

The  carpenter  made  no  answer;  but  lighted  his  pipe 
at  the  lantern,  evidently  turning  over  some  scheme  in 
his  mind.  After  that,  the  talk  ran  on  other  topics, 
some  of  which  I  could  not  understand.  It  was  mostly 
about  the  Gold  Coast,  about  a  place  called  Whydah, 
where  there  was  good  trading  for  negroes,  so  the  boat- 
swain said.  He  had  been  there  in  a  Bristol  brig,  under 
Captain  Travers,  collecting  trade,  i.  e.  negro  slaves. 
At  Whydah  they  had  made  King  Jellybags  so  drunk 
with  "  Samboe "  (whatever  Samboe  was)  that  they 
had  carried  him  off  to  sea,  with  his  whole  court.  "  The 
blacks  was  mad  after,"  he  said,  "  the  next  ship's  crew 
that  put  in  there  was  all  et  on  the  beach.  I  seed  their 
bones  after.  All  picked  clean.  But  old  King  Jellybags 
fetched  thirty  pound  in  Port  Royal,  duty  free."  He 
seemed  to  think  that  this  story  was  something  to  laugh 
at. 

I  strained  my  ears  to  hear  more  of  what  they  said.  I 
could  catch  nothing  more  relating  to  myself.  Nothing 
more  was  said  about  me.  They  told  each  other  stories 
about  the  African  shore,  where  the  schooners  anchored 
in  the  creeks,  among  the  swamp-smells,  in  search  of 
slaves  or  gold  dust.  They  told  tales  of  Tortuga,  where 
the  pirates  lived  together  in  a  town,  whenever  they 
were  at  home  after  a  cruise.  "  Rum  is  cheaper  than 
water  there,"  the  bo'sun  said.  "  A  sloop  comes  off 
once  a  month  with  stores  from  Port  Royal.  Its  happy 
days,  being  in  Tortuga."  Presently  the  two  men  crept 


I    TOLD    MR.    JERMYN    ALL    THAT   I    HAD    HEARD. 


Page  83 


THE  SEA!   THE  SEA!  83 

aft  to  the  empty  cabin  to  steal  the  captain's  brandy. 
Soon  afterwards  they  passed  forward  to  their  hammocks. 

When  they  had  gone,  I  lay  awake,  wondering  how 
I  was  to  avoid  this  terrible  danger  of  being  sold  to  the 
Dutch  East  India  merchants.  I  wondered  who  Long- 
shore Jack  might  be.  I  feared  that  the  carpenter  sus- 
pected our  party.  I  kept  repeating  his  words,  "  There's 
money  in  Mr.  Jermyn,"  till  at  last,  through  sheer 
weariness,  I  fell  asleep.  In  the  inorning,  as  I  cleared 
away  breakfast,  from  the  cabin-table,  I  told  Mr.  Jermyn 
all  that  I  had  heard.  The  Duke  seemed  agitated.  He 
kept  referring  to  an  astronomical  book  which  told  him 
how  his  ruling  planets  stood.  "  Yes,"  he  kept  saying, 
"  I've  no  very  favourable  stars  till  July.  I  don't  like 
this,  Jermyn."  Mr.  Jermyn  smoked  a  pipe  of  tobacco 
(a  practise  rare  among  gentlemen  at  that  time)  while 
he  thought  of  what  could  be  done.  At  last  he  spoke. 

"  I  know  what  we'll  do,  sir.  We'll  sell  this  man  as 
carpenter  to  the  Dutch  East  India  man.  We'll  give 
the  two  of  them  a  sleeping  draught  in  their  drink. 
We'll  get  rid  of  them  both  together." 

"  It  sounds  very  cruel,"  said  the  Duke. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn,  "it  is  cruel.  But  who 
knows  what  the  sly  man  may  not  pick  up?  We're 
playing  for  high  stakes,  we  two.  We've  got  many 
enemies.  One  word  of  what  this  man  suspects  may 
bring  a  whole  pack  of  spies  upon  us.  Besides,  if  the 
spies  get  hold  of  this  boy  we  shall  have  some  trouble." 


84  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  The  boy's  done  very  well/'  said  the  Duke. 

"  He's  got  a  talent  for  overhearing,"  Mr.  Jermyn 
answered.  "  Well,  Martin  Hyde.  How  do  you  like 
your  work?  " 

11  Sir,"  I  answered,  "  I  don't  like  it  at  all." 

"Well,"  he  said,  "  we  shall  be  in  the  Canal  to-night, 
now  the  wind  has  changed.  Hold  out  till  then.  I 
think,  sir,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  Duke,  "  the  boy 
has  done  really  very  creditably.  The  work  is  not  at 
all  the  work  for  one  of  his  condition." 

The  Duke  rewarded  me  with  his  languid  beautiful 
smile. 

"  Who  lives  will  see,"  he  said.  "  A  King  never 
forgets  a  faithful  servant." 

The  phrase  seemed  queer  on  the  lips  of  that  man's 
father's  son;  but  I  bowed  very  low,  for  I  felt  that  I 
was  already  a  captain  of  a  man-of-war,  with  a  big 
blazing  decoration  on  my  heart.  Well,  who  lives,  sees. 
I  lived  to  see  a  lot  of  strange  things  in  that  King's 
service. 


CHAPTER  VII 

LAND  RATS  AND  WATER  RATS 

I  WILL  say  no  more  about  our  passage  except  that  we 
were  three  days  at  sea.  Then,  when  I  woke  one  morning, 
I  found  that  we  were  fast  moored  to  a  gay  little  wharf, 
paved  with  clean  white  cobbles,  on  the  north  side  of 
the  canal.  Strange,  outlandish  figures,  in  immense  blue 
baggy  trousers,  clattered  past  in  wooden  shoes.  A  few 
Dutch  galliots  lay  moored  ahead  of  us,  with  long  scarlet 
pennons  on  their  mastheads.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
canal  was  a  huge  East  Indiaman,  with  her  lower  yards 
cockbilled,  loading  all  three  hatches  at  once.  It  was  a 
beautiful  morning.  The  sun  was  so  bright  that  all  the 
scene  had  thrice  its  natural  beauty.  The  clean  neat  trim- 
ness  of  the  town,  the  water  slapping  past  in  the  canal, 
the  ships  with  their  flags,  the  Sunday  trim  of  the 
schooner,  all  filled  me  with  delight,  lit  up,  as  they  were, 
by  the  April  sun.  I  looked  about  me  at  my  ease,  for  the 
deck  was  deserted.  Even  the  never-sleeping  mate  was 
resting,  now  that  we  were  in  port.  While  I  looked,  a 
man  sidled  along  the  wharf  from  a  warehouse  towards  me. 
He  looked  at  the  schooner  in  a  way  which  convinced  me 
that  he  was  not  a  sailor.  Then,  sheltering  behind  a 


86  MARTIN  HYDE 

bollard,  he  lighted  his  pipe.  He  was  a  short,  active, 
wiry  man,  with  a  sharp,  thin  face,  disfigured  by  a  green 
patch  over  his  right  eye.  He  looked  to  me  to  have  a 
horsey  look,  as  though  he  were  a  groom  or  coachman. 
After  lighting  his  pipe,  he  advanced  to  a  point  abreast 
of  the  schooner's  gangway,  from  which  he  could  look 
down  upon  her,  as  she  lay  with  her  deck  a  foot  or  two 
below  the  level  of  the  wharf. 

"  Chips  aboard?  "  he  asked,  meaning,  "  Is  the  car- 
penter on  board  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said.    "  Will  you  come  aboard?  " 

He  did  not  answer,  but  looked  about  the  ship,  as  though 
making  notes  of  everything.  Presently  he  turned  to  me. 

"  You're  new,"  he  said.  "  Are  you  Mr.  Jermyn's 
boy?  "  I  told  him  that  I  was. 

"  How  is  Mr.  Jermyn  keeping?  "  he  asked.  "  Is  that 
cough  of  his  better?  "  This  made  me  feel  that  probably 
the  man  knew  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  Yes,"  I  said.  "  He's  got 
no  cough,  now."  "  He'd  a  bad  one  last  time  he  was 
here,"  the  man  answered.  For  a  while  he  kept  silent. 
He  seemed  to  me  to  be  puzzling  out  the  relative  heights 
of  our  masts.  Suddenly  he  turned  to  me,  with  a  very 
natural  air.  "  How's  Mr.  Scott's  business  going?  "  he 
asked.  "  You  know,  eh?  You  know  what  I  mean?  " 
I  was  taken  off  my  guard.  I'm  afraid  I  hesitated, 
though  I  knew  that  the  man's  sharp  eyes  noted  every 
little  change  .on  my  face.  Then,  in  the  most  natural 
way,  the  man  reassured  me.  "  You  know,"  he  said. 


LAND  RATS  AND  WATER  RATS  87 

"  What  demand  for  oranges  in  London?  "  I  was  thank- 
ful that  he  had  not  meant  the  other  business.  I  said 
with  a  good  deal  too  much  of  eagerness  that  there  was, 
I  believed,  a  big  demand  for  oranges.  "  Yes,"  he  said, 
"  I  suppose  so  many  young  boys  makes  a  brisk  de- 
mand." I  was  uneasy  at  the  man's  manner.  He  seemed 
to  be  pumping  me,  but  he  had  such  a  natural  easy  way, 
under  the  pale  mask  of  his  face,  that  I  could  not  be  sure 
if  he  were  in  the  secret  or  not.  I  was  on  my  guard  now, 
ready  for  any  question,  as  I  thought,  but  eager  for  an 
excuse  to  get  away  from  this  man  before  I  betrayed  any 
trust.  "  Nice  ship,"  he  said  easily.  "  Did  you  join  her  in 
Spain?"  "No,"  I  answered.  "In  London."  "In 
London?  "  he  said.  "  I  thought  you'd  something  of  a 
Spanish  look."  "  No,"  I  said.  "I'm  English.  Did  you 
want  the  carpenter,  sir?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  I  do.  But  no  hurry.  No 
hurry,  lad."  Here  he  pulled  out  a  watch,  which  he 
wound  up,  staring  vacantly  about  the  decks  as  he 
did  so.  "  Tell  me,  boy,"  he  said  gently.  "  Is  Lane  come 
over  with  you?  "  To  tell  the  truth,  it  flashed  across  my 
mind,  when  he  pulled  out  his  watch,  that  he  was  making 
me  unready  for  a  difficult  question.  I  was  not  a  very 
bright  boy;  but  I  had  this  sudden  prompting  or  in- 
stinct, which  set  me  on  my  guard.  No  one  is  more 
difficult  to  pump  than  a  boy  who  is  ready  for  his  ques- 
tioner, so  I  stared  at  him.  "  Lane?  "  I  said,  "  Lane? 
Do  you  mean  the  bo'sun?  " 


88  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  No,"  he  said.    "  The  Colonel.    You  know?    Eh?  " 

"  No."  I  said.    "  I  don't  know." 

"  Oh  well,"  he  answered.  "  It's  all  one.  I  suppose 
he's  not  come  over."  At  this  moment  the  mate  came 
on  deck  with  the  carpenter,  carrying  a  model  ship  which 
they  had  been  making  together  in  their  spare  time. 
They  nodded  to  the  stranger,  who  gave  them  a  curt 
"  How  do?  "  as  though  they  had  parted  from  him  only 
the  night  before.  The  mate  growled  at  me  for  wasting 
time  on  deck  when  I  should  be  at  work.  He  sent  me 
down  to  my  usual  job  of  getting  the  cabin  ready  for  the 
breakfast  of  the  gentlemen.  As  I  passed  down  the  hatch- 
way, I  heard  the  carpenter  say  to  the  stranger,  "  Well. 
So  what's  the  news  with  Jack? "  It  flashed  into 
my  mind  that  this  man  might  be  his  friend,  the  "  Long- 
shore Jack  "  who  was  to  keep  an  eye  upon  me  as  well 
as  upon  Mr.  Jermyn.  It  gave  me  a  most  horrid  qualm 
to  think  this.  The  man  was  so  sly,  so  calm,  so  guarded, 
that  the  thought  of  him  being  on  the  look-out  for  me, 
to  sell  me  to  the  Dutch  captains,  almost  scared  me  out 
of  my  wits.  The  mate  brought  him  to  the  cabin  as  I 
was  laying  the  table.  "  This  is  the  cabin,"  he  was  saying, 
"  where  the  gentlemen  messes.  That's  our  stern-chaser, 
the  gun  there." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  stranger,  looking  about  him  like  one 
who  has  never  seen  a  ship  before.  "  But  where  do 
they  sleep?  Do  they  sleep  on  the  sofa,  (he  meant  the 
lockers),  there?  " 


LAND  RATS  AND  WATER  RATS  89 

"  Why,  no,"  said  the  mate.  "  They  sleep  in  the 
little  cabins  yonder.  But  we  mustn't  stay  down  here 
now.  I'm  not  supposed  to  use  this  cabin.  I  mustn't 
let  the  captain  see  me."  So  they  went  on  deck  again, 
leaving  me  alone.  When  the  gentlemen  came  in  to 
breakfast,  I  had  to  go  on  deck  for  the  dishes.  As  I 
passed  to  the  galley,  I  noticed  the  stranger  talking  to 
the  carpenter  by  the  main-rigging.  They  gave  me  a 
meaning  look,  which  I  did  not  at  all  relish.  Then,  as 
I  stood  in  the  galley,  while  the  cook  dished  up,  I 
noticed  that  the  stranger  raised  his  hand  to  a  tall, 
lanky,  ill-favoured  man  who  was  loafing  about  on  the 
wharf,  carrying  a  large  black  package.  This  man 
came  right  up  to  the  edge  of  the  wharf,  directly  he 
saw  the  stranger's  signal.  It  made  me  uneasy  some- 
how. I  was  in  a  thoroughly  anxious  mood,  longing  to 
confide  in  some  one,  even  in  the  crusty  cook,  yet  fear- 
ing to  open  my  mouth  to  any  one,  even  to  Mr.  Jermyn, 
to  whom  I  dared  not  speak  with  the  captain  present  in 
the  room.  Well,  I  had  my  work  to  do,  so  I  kept  my 
thoughts  to  myself.  I  took  the  dishes  down  below  to  the 
cabin,  where,  after  removing  the  covers,  I  waited  on 
the  gentlemen. 

"  Martin,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  This  skylight  over 
our  heads  makes  rather  a  draught.  We  can't  have  it 
open  in  the  mornings  for  breakfast.'^ 

"Did  you  open  it?"   the  captain  asked, 
made  you  open  it?  " 


90  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Please,  sir,  I  didn't  open  it." 

"  Then  shut  it,"  said  the  captain.  "  Go  on  deck. 
The  catch  is  fast  outside." 

I  ran  very  nimbly  on  deck  to  shut  the  skylight,  but 
the  catch  was  very  stiff;  it  took  me  some  few  moments 
to  undo.  I  noticed,  as  I  worked  at  it,  that  the  deck 
was  empty,  except  for  the  lanky  man  with  the  package, 
who  was  now  forward,  apparently  undoing  his  package 
on  the  forehatch.  I  thought  that  he  was  a  sort  of  pedlar 
or  bumboatman,  come  to  sell  onions,  soft  bread,  or  cheap 
jewellery  to  the  sailors.  The  carpenter's  head  showed 
for  an  instant  at  the  galley-door.  He  was  looking 
forward  at  the  pedlar.  The  hands  were  all  down  below 
in  the  forecastle,  eating  their  breakfast.  The  other 
stranger  seemed  to  have  gone.  I  could  not  see  him 
about  the  deck.  At  last  the  skylight  came  down  with 
a  clatter,  leaving  me  free  to  go  below  again.  As  I  went 
down  the  hatchway,  into  the  'tweendecks  gloom,  I  saw 
a  figure  apparently  at  work  among  the  ship's  stores 
lashed  to  the  deck  there.  I  could  not  see  who  it  was; 
it  was  too  dark  for  that;  but  the  thing  seemed  strange 
to  me.  I  guessed  that  it  might  be  my  enemy  the  boat- 
swain, so  I  passed  aft  to  the  cabin  on  the  other  side. 

Soon  after  that,  it  might  be  ten  minutes  after,  while 
the  gentlemen  were  talking  lazily  about  going  ashore, 
we  heard  loud  shouts  on  deck. 

"  What's  that?  "  said  the  captain,  starting  up  from 
his  ehair. 


fe 


"  ON  DECK,"  HE  CRIED.      "  WE'RE    ALL    IN    A    BLAZE    FORWARD." 

Page  91 


LAND  RATS  AND  WATER  RATS       91 

"  Sounds  like  fire,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn. 

"  Fire  forward,"  said  the  captain,  turning  very  white. 
"  There's  five  tons  of  powder  forward." 

"  What?  "  cried  the  Duke. 

At  that  instant  we  heard  the  boatswain  roaring  to  the 
men  to  come  on  deck.  "  Aft  for  the  hose  there,  Bill," 
we  heard.  Feet  rushed  aft  along  the  deck,  helter- 
skelter.  Some  one  shoved  the  skylight  open  with  a 
violent  heave.  Looking  up,  we  saw  the  carpenter's 
head.  He  looked  as  scared  as  a  man  can  be. 

"  On  deck,"  he  cried.  "  We're  all  in  a  blaze  forward. 
The  lamp  in  the  bo'sun's  locker.  Quick." 

"  Just  over  the  powder,"  the  captain  said,  rushing  out. 

<k  Quick,  sir,"  said  Jermyn  to  the  Duke.  "  We  may 
blow  up  at  any  moment." 

"  No,"  said  the  Duke,  rising  leisurely.  "  Not  with 
these  stars.  Impossible." 

All  the  same,  the  two  men  followed  the  captain  in 
pretty  quick  time.  Mr  Jermyn  rushed  the  Duke  out 
by  the  arm.  I  was  rushing  out,  too,  when  I  saw  the 
Duke's  hat  lying  on  the  lockers.  I  darted  at  it,  for  I 
knew  that  he  would  want  it,  with  the  result  that  my  heel 
slipped  on  a  copper  nail-head,  which  had  been  worn  down 
even  with  the  deck  till  it  was  as  smooth  as  glass.  Down 
I  came,  bang,  with  a  jolt  which  shook  me  almost  sick. 
I  rose  up,  stupid  with  the  shock,  so  wretched  with  the 
present  pain  that  the  fire  seemed  a  little  matter 
to  me.  Indeed,  I  did  not  understand  the  risk.  I  did 


92  MARTIN  HYDE 

not  know  how  a  fire  so  far  forward  could  affect  the 
cabin. 

A  couple  of  minutes  must  have  passed  before  I  picked 
up  the  hat  from  where  it  lay.  As  I  hurried  through 
the  'tweendecks  some  slight  noise  or  movement  made 
me  turn  my  head.  Looking  to  my  right  I  saw  the  horsey 
man,  the  stranger,  rummaging  quickly  hi  the  lockers 
of  the  Duke's  cabin.  As  I  looked,  I  saw  him  snatch 
up  something  like  a  pocket-book  or  pocket  case,  with  a 
hasty  "  Ah  "  of  approval.  At  the  same  moment,  he 
saw  me  watching  him. 

"  Where's  Mr.  Scott?  "  he  cried,  darting  out  on  me. 
"  We  may  all  blow  up  in  another  moment." 

"  He's  on  deck,"  I  said.    "  Hasn't  he  gone  on  deck?  " 

"  On  deck?  "  said  the  man.  "  Then  on  deck  with 
you,  too."  He  pushed  me  up  the  hatch  before  him. 
"  Quick,"  he  cried.  "  Quick.  There's  Mr.  Scott  forward. 
Get  him  on  to  the  wharf." 

He  gave  me  a  hasty  shove  forward,  to  where  the 
whole  company  was  working  in  a  cloud  of  smoke,  passing 
buckets  from  hand  to  hand.  A  crowd  of  Dutchmen  had 
gathered  on  the  wharf.  Everybody  was  shouting.  The 
scene  was  confused  like  a  bad  dream.  I  caught  sight  of 
the  pedlar  man  at  the  gangway  as  the  stranger  thrust  me 
forward.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  the  stranger  passed 
something  to  him  with  the  quick  thrust  known  as  the 
thieves'  pass.  I  saw  it,  for  all  my  confusion.  I  knew 
in  an  instant  that  he  had  stolen  something.  The  pedlar 


LAND  RATS  AND  WATER  RATS  93 

person  was  an  accomplice.  As  likely  as  not  the  fire  was 
a  diversion.  I  rushed  at  the  gangway.  The  pedlar  was 
moving  quickly  away  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
It  all  happened  in  a  moment.  As  I  rushed  at  the  gang- 
way, with  some  wild  notion  of  stopping  the  pedlar,  the 
horsey  man  caught  me  by  the  collar. 

"  What,"  he  said,  in  a  loud  voice.  "  Trying  to  desert, 
are  you?  You  come  forward  where  the  danger  is."  He 
ran  me  forward.  He  was  as  strong  as  a  bull. 

"  Mr.  Jermyn,"  I  cried.  "  Mr.  Jermyn.  This  man's 
a  thief." 

The  man  twisted  my  collar  on  to  my  throat  till  I 
choked.  "  Quiet,  you,"  he  hissed. 

Then  Mr.  Jermyn  dropped  his  bucket  to  attend  to  me. 

"  A  thief,"  I  gasped.  "  A  thief."  Mr.  Jermyn  sprang 
aft,  with  his  eyes  on  the  man's  eyes.  The  stranger  flung 
me  into  Mr.  Jermyn's  way,  with  all  the  sweep  of  his 
arm.  As  I  went  staggering  into  the  fore-bitts  (for  Mr. 
Jermyn  dodged  me)  the  man  took  a  quick  side  step  up 
the  rail  to  the  wharf.  I  steadied  myself.  Mr.  Jermyn, 
failing  to  catch  the  man  before  he  was  off  the  ship, 
rushed  below  to  see  what  was  lost.  The  crowd  of  workers 
seemed  to  dissolve  suddenly.  The  men  surged  all  about 
me,  swearing.  The  fire  was  out.  Remember,  all  this 
happened  in  thirty  seconds,  from  the  passing  of  the 
stolen  goods  to  the  stranger's  letting  go  my  throat. 
The  very  instant  that  I  found  my  feet  against  the  bitts, 
I  jumped  off  the  ship  on  to  the  wharf.  There  was  the 


94  MARTIN  HYDE 

stranger  running  down  the  wharf  to  the  right,  full  tilt. 
There  was  the  lanky  pedlar  slouching  quickly  away  as 
though  he  were  going  on  an  errand,  with  his  black  box 
full  of  groceries. 

"  That's  the  man,  Mr.  Scott,"  I  cried.  "  He's  got  it." 
The  captain  (who,  I  believe,  was  a  naval  officer  in  the 
Duke's  secret)  was  up  on  the  wharf  in  an  instant.  I 
followed  him,  though  the  carpenter  clutched  at  me  as  I 
scrambled  up.  I  kicked  out  behind  like  a  donkey.  I 
didn't  kick  him,  but  some  one  thrust  the  carpenter 
aside  in  the  hurry  so  that  I  was  free.  In  another  five 
seconds  I  was  past  the  captain,  running  after  the  pedlar, 
who  started  to  run  at  a  good  speed,  dropping  his  box 
with  a  clatter.  Half  a  dozen  joined  in  the  pursuit. 
The  captain  had  his  sword  out.  They  raised  such  a 
noise  behind  me  that  I  thought  the  whole  crew  was  at 
my  heels.  The  pedlar  kept  glancing  behind;  he  knew 
very  little  about  running.  He  doubled  from  street  to 
street,  like  a  man  at  his  wits'  ends.  I  could  see  that 
he  was  blown.  When  he  entered  into  that  conspiracy, 
he  had  counted  on  the  horsey  man  diverting  suspicion 
from  him.  Suddenly,  after  twisting  round  a  corner,  he 
darted  through  a  swing  door  into  a  stone-paved  court, 
surrounded  by  brick  walls.  I  was  at  his  heels  at  the 
moment  or  I  should  have  lost  him  there.  I  darted 
through  the  swing  door  after  him.  I  went  full  sprawl 
over  his  body  on  the  other  side.  He  had  collapsed 
there,  quite  used  up. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

I  MEET   MY  FRIEND 

"  GIVE  it  me,"  I  said.  "  Give  it  me,  Longshore  Jack. 
Before  they  catch  us."  To  my  horror,  I  saw  that  the 
creature  was  a  woman  in  a  man's  clothes.  She  took  me 
for  one  of  her  gang.  She  was  too  much  frightened 
to  think  things  out.  "  I  thought  you  were  one  of  the 
other  lot,"  she  gasped,  as  she  handed  me  a  pocket-book. 

"  Didn't  he  get  the  letters,  too?  "  I  asked  at  a  venture. 
"  No,"  she  said,  sitting  up,  now,  panting,  to  take  a  good 
look  at  me.  I  stared  at  her  for  a  moment.  I,  myself, 
was  out  of  breath. 

"  They're  going,"  I  said,  hearing  the  noise  of  the  pur- 
suit passing  away  in  the  check.  "I'll  just  spy  out  the 
land."  I  opened  the  door  till  it  was  an  inch  or  two  ajar, 
so  that  I  could  see  what  was  going  on  outside.  "  They're 
gone,"  I  said  again,  still  keeping  up  the  pretence  of  being 
on  her  side.  As  I  said  it,  I  glanced  back  to  fix  her 
features  on  my  memory.  She  had  a  pale,  resolute  face 
with  fierce  eyes,  which  seemed  fierce  from  pain,  not  from 
any  cruelty  of  nature.  It  was  a  pleasant  face,  as  far 
as  one  could  judge  of  a  face  made  up  to  resemble  a  dirty 
pedlar's  face. 


96  MARTIN  HYDE 


Seeing  my  look,  she  seemed  to  watch  me  curiously, 
raising  herself  up,  till  she  stood  unsteadily  by  the  wall 
"  When  did  you  come  in?  "  she  said,  meaning,  I  suppose, 
when  did  I  join  the  gang. 

"  Last  week,"  I  answered,  swinging  the  door  a  little 
further  open.  Footsteps  were  coming  rapidly  along  the 
road.  I  heard  excited  voices,  I  made  sure  that  it  was 
the  search  party  going  back  to  the  schooner. 

"  Digame,  muchacho,"  she  said  in  Spanish.  It  must 
have  been  some  sort  of  pass-word  among  them.  Seeing 
by  my  face  that  I  did  not  understand  she  repeated  the 
words  softly.  Then  at  that  very  instant  she  was  on  me 
like  a  tigress  with  a  knife.  I  slipped  to  one  side  in- 
stinctively. I  suppose  I  half  saw  her  as  the  knife  went 
home.  She  grabbed  at  the  pocket-book,  which  I  swung 
away  from  her  hand.  The  knife  went  deep  into  the 
door,  with  a  drive  which  must  have  jarred  her  to  the 
shoulder.  "  Give  it  me,"  she  gasped,  snatching  at  me 
like  a  fury.  I  dodged  to  one  side,  up  the  court,  hor- 
ribly scared.  She  followed,  raving  like  a  mad  thing, 
quite  ghastly  white  under  her  paint,  wholly  forgetful 
that  she  was  acting  a  man's  part.  When  once  we  were 
dodging  I  grew  calmer.  I  led  her  to  the  end  of  the  court, 
then  ducked.  She  charged  in,  blindly,  against  the  wall, 
while  I  raced  to  the  door,  very  pleased  with  my  success. 
I  did  not  hear  her  follow  me,  so,  when  I  got  to  the  door, 
I  looked  back.  Just  at  that  instant,  there  came  a  smart 
report.  The  creature  had  fired  at  me  with  a  pistol; 


I  MEET  MY  FRIEND  97 

the  bullet  sent  a  dozen  chips  of  brick  into  my  face.  I 
went  through  the  door  just  as  the  shot  from  the  second 
barrel  thudded  into  the  lintel.  Going  through  hurriedly 
I  ran  into  Mr.  Jermyn,  as  he  came  round  the  corner  with 
the  captain. 

"  I've  got  it,"  I  said.    "  Look  out.    She's  in  there." 

"Who?"  they  said.  "  The  thief?  A  woman?" 
They  did  not  stay,  but  thrust  through  the  door. 

Mr.  Jermyn  dragged  me  through  with  them.  "  You 
say  you've  got  it,  Martin?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  handing  him  the  book.  "  Here 
it  is." 

"That's  a  mercy,"  he  said.  "Now  then,  where's 
the  thief?  " 

I  had  been  out  of  the  court,  I  suppose,  thirty  seconds; 
it  cannot  have  been  more.  Yet,  when  I  went  back  with 
those  two  men,  the  woman  had  gone,  as  though  she  had 
never  been  there.  "  She's  over  the  wall,"  cried  the 
captain,  running  up  the  court.  But  when  we  looked  over 
the  wall  there  was  no  trace  of  her,  except  some  slight 
scratches  upon  the  brick,  where  her  toes  had  rested. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  wall  was  a  tulip  bed  full  of  rows 
of  late  flowering  tulips,  not  yet  out.  There  was  no  foot- 
mark on  the  earth.  Plainly  she  had  not  jumped  down 
on  the  other  side.  "  Check,"  said  the  captain.  "  Is  she 
in  one  of  the  houses?  " 

But  the  houses  on  the  left  side  of  the  court  (on  the 
other  side  the  court  had  no  houses,  only  brick  walls 


98  MARTIN   HYDE 

seven  feet  high)  were  all  old,  barred  in,  deserted  mansions, 
with  padlocks  on  the  doors.  She  could  not  possibly  have 
entered  one  of  those. 

"  They're  old  plague-houses/'  said  Mr.  Jermyn. 
"  They've  been  deserted  twenty  years  now,  since  the 
great  sickness." 

"  Yes?  "  said  >the  captain,  carelessly.  "  But  where 
can  she  have  got  to?  " 

"  Well.  It  beats  me,"  Mr.  Jermyn  replied.  "  But  per- 
haps she  ran  along  the  wall  to  the  end,  then  jumped 
down  into  the  lane.  That's  the  only  thing  she  could 
have  done.  By  the  way,  boy,  you  were  shot  at.  Were 
you  hit?  " 

"  No,"  I  answered.  "  But  I  got  jolly  near  it.  The 
bullet  went  just  by  me." 

"  Ah,"  he  said.  "  Take  this.  You'll  have  to  go 
armed  in  future." 

He  handed  me  a  beautiful  little  double-barrelled 
pocket  pistol.  "  Be  careful,"  he  said.  "  It's  loaded. 
Put  it  in  your  pocket.  You  mustn't  be  seen  carrying 
arms  here.  That  would  never  do." 

"  Boy,"  said  the  captain.  "  D'ye  think  you  could  shin 
up  that  water-spout,  so  as  to  look  over  the  parapet  there, 
on  to  the  leads  of  the  houses?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said.  "  I  think  I  could,  from  the  top  of  the 
wall." 

"  Why,"  Mr.  Jermyn  said.  *  She  couldn't  have  got 
up  there." 


I  MEET  MY  FRIEND  99 

"  An  active  woman  might,"  the  captain  said.  "  You 
see,  the  water-spout  is  only  six  feet  long  from  the  wall  to 
the  eaves.  There's  good  footing  on  the  brackets.  It's 
three  quick  steps.  Then  one  vigorous  heave  over  the 
parapet.  There  you  are,  snug  as  a  purser's  billet,  out 
of  sight." 

"  No  woman  could  have  done  it,"  Mr.  Jermyn  said. 
"  Besides,  look  here.  We  can't  go  further  in  the  matter. 
We've  recovered  the  book.  We  must  get  back  to  the 
ship." 

So  the  scheme  of  climbing  up  the  water  pipe  came  to 
nothing.  We  walked  off  together  wondering  where  the 
woman  had  got  to.  Long  afterwards  I  learned  that  she 
heard  all  that  we  said  by  the  wall  there.  While  we  talked, 
she  was  busy  reloading  her  pistol,  waiting.  At  the  door 
of  the  court  we  paused  to  pull  out  her  knife  from  where 
it  stuck.  It  was  a  not  very  large  dagger-knife,  with  a 
small  woman's  grip,  inlaid  with  silver,  but  bound  at  the 
guard  with  gold  clasps.  The  end  of  the  handle  was  also 
bound  with  gold.  The  edge  of  the  broad,  cutting  blade 
curved  to  a  long  sharp  point.  The  back  was  straight. 
On  the  blade  was  an  inscription  in  Spanish,  "  Veneer  o 
Morir  "  ("  To  conquer  or  die  "),  with  the  maker's  name, 
Luis  Socartes,  Toledo,  surrounded  by  a  little  twirligig. 
I  have  it  hi  my  hand  as  I  write.  I  value  it  more  than 
anything  in  my  possession.  It  serves  to  remind  me  of  a 
very  remarkable  woman. 

"  There,  Martin,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn.    "  There's  a  cu- 


100  MARTIN  HYDE 

riosity  for  you.  Get  one  of  the  seamen  to  make  a  sheath 
for  it.  Then  you  can  wear  it  at  your  back  on  your  belt 
like  a  sailor." 

As  we  walked  back  to  the  ship,  I  told  Mr.  Jermyn  all 
that  I  had  seen  of  the  morning's  adventure.  He  said 
that  the  whole,  as  far  as  he  could  make  it  out,  had  been 
a  carefully  laid  plot  of  some  of  James  the  Second's  spies. 
He  treated  me  as  an  equal  now.  He  seemed  to  think 
that  I  had  saved  the  Duke  from  a  very  dreadful  danger. 
The  horsey  man,  he  said,  was  evidently  a  trusted  secret 
agent,  who  must  have  made  friends  with  the  carpenter 
on  some  earlier  visit  of  the  schooner.  He  had  planned 
his  raid  on  the  Duke's  papers  very  cleverly.  He  had 
arrived  on  board  when  no  one  was  about.  He  had 
bribed  the  carpenter  (so  we  conjectured,  piecing  the  evi- 
dence together)  to  shout  fire,  when  we  were  busy  at 
breakfast.  Then,  when  all  was  ready,  this  woman, 
whoever  she  was,  had  gone  forward  to  the  bo'sun's 
locker,  where  she  had  set  fire  to  half  a  dozen  of  those 
fumigating  chemical  candles  which  she  had  brought  in 
her  box.  The  candles  at  once  sputtered  out  immense 
volumes  of  evil  smelling  smoke.  The  carpenter,  watch- 
ing his  time,  raised  the  alarm  of  fire,  while  the  horsey 
man,  hidden  below,  waited  till  all  were  on  deck  to  force 
the  spring-locks  on  the  Duke's  cabin-door.  When  once 
he  had  got  inside  the  cabin,  he  had  worked  with  feverish 
speed,  emptying  all  the  drawers,  ripping  up  the  mattress, 
even  upsetting  the  books  from  the  bookshelf,  all  in 


I  MEET  MY  FRIEND  101 

about  two  minutes.  Luckily  the  Duke  kept  nearly  all 
his  secret  papers  about  his  person.  The  pocket-book 
was  the  only  important  exception.  This,  a  very  secret 
list  of  all  the  Western  gentry  ready  to  rise,  was  locked 
in  a  casket  in  a  locked  drawer. 

"  It  shows  you,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn,  "  how  well  he 
worked,  that  he  did  all  this  in  so  little  time.  If  you 
hadn't  fallen  on  the  nail,  Martin,  our  friends  in  the  West 
would  have  fared  badly.  It  was  very  clever  of  you  to 
bring  us  out  of  the  danger."  When  we  got  back  aboard 
the  schooner,  we  found,  as  we  had  expected,  that  the  men 
in  league  with  the  horsey  man  had  deserted.  Neither 
carpenter  nor  boatswain  was  to  be  found.  Both  had 
bolted  off  in  pursuit  of  the  horsey  man  at  the  moment 
of  alarm,  leaving  their  chests  behind  them.  I  suppose 
they  thought  that  the  plot  had  succeeded.  I  dare  say, 
too,  that  the  horsey  man,  who  was  evidently  well  known 
to  them  both,  had  given  them  orders  to  desert  in  the 
confusion,  so  that  he  might  suck  their  brains  at  leisure 
elsewhere.  Altogether,  the  morning's  work  from  break- 
fast time  till  ten  was  as  full  of  moving  incident  as  a  quiet 
person's  life.  I  have  never  had  a  more  exciting  two 
hours.  When  I  sat  down  to  my  own  breakfast  (which 
I  ate  in  the  cabin  among  the  gentlemen)  I  seemed  to 
have  grown  five  years  older.  All  three  men  made  much  of 
me.  They  brought  out  all  sorts  of  sweetmeats  for  me, 
saying  that  I  had  saved  them  from  disaster.  The  Duke 
was  especially  kind.  "  Why,  Jermyn,"  he  said,  "  we 


102  MARTIN  HYDE 

thought  we'd  found  a  clever  messenger;  but  we've  found 
a  guardian  angel."  He  gave  me  a  belt  made  of  green 
Spanish  leather,  with  a  wonderfully  wrought  steel  clasp. 
11  Here,"  he  said.  "  Wear  this,  Martin.  Here's  a  holster 
on  it  for  your  pistol.  These  pouches  hold  cartridges. 
Then  this  sheath  at  the  back  will  hold  your  dagger,  the 
spoils  of  war." 

"  There,"  said  the  captain.  "  Now  I'll  give  you 
something  else  to  fit  you  out.  I'll  give  you  a  pocket 
flask.  What's  more,  I'll  teach  you  how  to  make 
pistol  cartridges.  We'll  make  a  stock  this  morn- 
ing." 

While  he  was  speaking,  the  mate  came  down  to  tell  us 
how  sorry  he  was  that  it  was  through  him  that  the  horsey 
man  was  shown  over  the  ship.  "  He  told  me  he'd  im- 
portant letters  for  Mr.  Scott,"  he  said,  "  so  I  thought 
it  was  only  right  to  show  him  about,  while  you  was 
dressing.  The  carpenter  came  to  me.  '  This  gentleman's 
got  letters  for  Mr.  Scott,'  he  said.  So  I  was  just  taken 
in.  He  was  such  a  smooth  spoken  chap.  After  I  got 
to  know,  I  could  'a'  bit  my  head  off."  They  spoke  kindly 
to  the  man,  who  was  evidently  distressed  at  his  mistake. 
They  told  him  to  give  orders  for  a  watchman  to  walk 
the  gangway  all  day  long  in  future,  which  to  me  sounded 
like  locking  the  stable  door  too  late.  After  that,  I  learned 
how  to  make  pistol  cartridges  until  the  company  pre- 
pared to  go  ashore.  The  chests  of  the  deserters  were 
locked  up  in  the  lazareet,  or  store  cupboard,  so  that  if 


I  MEET  MY  FRIEND  103 

the  men  came  aboard  again  they  might  not  take  away 
their  things. 

"  Before  we  start,"  the  Duke  said,  "  I  must  just  say 
this.  We  know,  from  this  morning's  work,  that  the  spies 
of  the  English  court  know  much  more  than  we  supposed. 
We  may  count  it  as  certain  that  this  ship  is  being 
watched  at  this  moment.  Now,  we  must  put  them  off 
the  scent,  because  I  must  see  Argyle  without  their 
knowledge.  It  is  not  much  good  putting  to  sea  again, 
as  a  blind,  for  they  can't  help  knowing  that  we  are  here 
to  see  Argyle.  They  have  only  to  watch  Argyle's  house 
to  see  us  enter,  sooner  or  later.  I  suggest  this  as  a  blind. 
We  ought  to  ride  far  out  into  the  country  to  Zaandam, 
say,  by  way  of  Amsterdam.  That's  about  twenty  miles. 
Meanwhile  Argyle  shall  come  aboard  here.  The  schooner 
shall  take  him  up  to  Egmont;  he'll  get  there  this  after- 
noon. He  must  come  aboard  disguised  though.  At 
Zaandam,  we  three  will  separate.  Jermyn  will  personate 
me,  remaining  in  Zaandam.  The  boy  shall  carry  letters 
in  a  hurry  to  Hoorn;  dummy  letters,  of  course.  While 
I  shall  creep  off  to  meet  Argyle  —  somewhere  else. 
If  we  start  in  a  hurry  they  won't  have  time  to  organize 
a  pursuit.  There  are  probably  onlv  a  few  secret  agents 
waiting  for  us  here.  What  do  you  t 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  I  my  hould  say  this. 
Send  the  boy  on  at  once  to  Eginrmi  with  a  note  to 
Stendhal  the  merchant  ther^  on't  » 

boy.  They  won't  bother  tc  folio*  ,  pro 


104  MARTIN  HYDE 

Stendhal  to  send  out  a  galliot  to  take  Argyle  off  the 
schooner  while  at  sea.  The  galliot  can  land  Argyle 
somewhere  on  the  coast.  That  would  puzzle  them  rarely. 
She  can  then  ply  to  England,  or  elsewhere,  so  that  her 
men  won't  have  a  chance  of  talking.  As  for  the 
schooner,  she  can  proceed  north  to  anchor  at  the  Texel 
till  further  orders.  At  the  same  time,  we  could  ride 
south  to  Noordwyk;  find  a  barge  there  going  north. 
Hide  in  her  cabin  till  she  arrives,  say,  at  Alkmaar. 
Meet  Argyle  somewhere  near  there.  Then  remain 
hidden  till  it  is  time  to  move.  We  can  set  all  the 
balls  moving,  by  sticking  up  a  few  bills  in  the  towns." 
I  did  not  know  what  he  meant  by  this.  Afterwards  I 
learned  that  the  conspirators  took  their  instructions 
from  advertisements  for  servants,  or  of  things  lost,  which 
were  stuck  up  in  public  places.  To  the  initiated,  these 
bills,  seemingly  innocent,  gave  warning  of  the  Duke's 
plan.  Very  few  people  in  Holland  (not  more  than  thirty 
I  believe)  were  in  the  secret  of  his  expedition.  Most  of 
these  thirty  knew  other  loyalists,  to  whom,  when  the 
time  came,  they  gave  the  word.  When  the  time  came 
we  were  only  about  eighty  men  all  told.  That  is  not  a 
large  force,  is  it,  for  the  invasion  of  a  populous  king- 
dom? 

They  talked  it  out  for  a  little  while,  making  improve- 
ments on  Mr.  Jermyn's  plan.  They  had  a  map  by  them 
during  some  of  the  time.  Before  they  made  their  de- 
cision, they  turned  me  out  of  the  cabin,  so  that  I  know 


I  MEET  JO    FRIEND  105 

not  to  this  day  what  the  Duke  did  during  the  next  few 
days.  I  know  only  this,  that  he  disappeared  from  his 
enemies,  so  completely  that  the  spies  were  baffled.  Not 
only  James's  spies,  that  is  nothing:  but  the  spies  of 
William  of  Orange  were  baffled.  They  knew  no  more 
of  his  whereabouts  than  I  knew.  They  had  to  write 
home  that  he  had  gone,  they  could  not  guess  where;  but 
possibly  to  Scotland  to  sound  the  clans.  All  that  I 
know  of  his  doings  during  the  next  week  is  this.  After 
about  half  an  hour  of  debate,  the  captain  went  ashore 
to  one  of  the  famous  inns  in  the  town.  From  this  inn, 
he  despatched,  one  by  one,  at  brief  intervals,  three 
horses,  each  to  a  different  inn  along  the  Egmont  highway. 
He  gave  instructions  to  the  ostlers  who  rode  them  to 
wait  outside  the  inns  named  till  the  gentlemen  called 
for  them.  He  got  the  third  horse  off,  in  this  quiet  way, 
at  the  end  of  about  an  hour.  I  believe  that  he  then  sent 
a  printed  book  (with  certain  words  in  it  underlined,  so 
as  to  form  a  message)  by  the  hand  of  a  little  girl,  to  the 
Duke  of  Argyle's  lodging.  I  have  heard  that  it  was  a 
book  on  the  training  of  horses  to  do  tricks.  There  was 
probably  some  cipher  message  in  it,  as  well  as  the  under- 
lined message.  Whatever  it  was,  it  gave  the  Duke  his 
instructions. 


CHAPTER   IX 

I  SEE   MORE   OF  MY  FRIEND 

AFTER  waiting  for  about  an  hour  in  the  schooner,  I 
was  sent  ashore  with  a  bottle-basket,  with  very  precise 
instructions  in  what  I  was  to  do.  I  was  to  follow  the 
road  towards  Haarlem,  till  I  came  to  the  inn  near  the 
turning  of  the  Egmont  highway.  There  I  was  to  leave 
my  bottle-basket,  asking  (or,  rather,  handing  over 
a  written  request)  for  it  to  be  filled  with  bottles  of  the 
very  best  gin.  After  paying  for  this,  I  was  to  direct 
it  to  be  sent  aboard  the  schooner  by  the  ostler  (who  was 
waiting  at  the  door  with  a  horse)  the  last  of  those  ordered 
by  the  captain.  I  was  then  to  walk  the  horse  along  the 
Egmont  road,  till  I  saw  or  heard  an  open  carriage  coming 
behind.  Then  I  was  to  trot,  keeping  ahead  of  the  car- 
riage, but  not  far  from  it,  till  I  was  past  the  third  tavern. 
After  that,  if  I  was  not  recalled  by  those  in  the  carriage, 
I  was  free  to  quicken  up  my  pace.  I  was  then  to  ride 
straight  ahead,  till  I  got  to  Egmont,  a  twenty  mile 
ride  to  the  north.  There  I  was  to  deliver  up  my  horse 
at  the  Zwolle-Haus  inn,  before  enquiring  for  M.  Stendhal, 
the  East  India  merchant.  To  him  I  was  to  give  a  letter, 
which  for  safety  was  rolled  into  a  blank  cartridge  in 


I  SEE  MORE  OF  MY  FRIEND  107 

my  little  pistol  cartridge  box.  After  that,  I  was  to 
stay  at  M.  Stendhal's  house,  keeping  out  of  harm's  way, 
till  I  received  further  orders  from  my  masters. 

You  may  be  sure  that  I  thought  myself  a  fine  figure 
of  gallantry  as  I  stepped  out  with  my  bottle-basket. 
I  was  a  King's  secret  agent.  I  had  a  King's  letter  hidden 
about  my  person.  I  was  armed  with  fine  weapons,  which 
I  longed  to  be  using.  I  had  been  under  fire  for  my  King's 
sake.  I  was  also  still  tingling  with  my  King's  praise. 
It  was  a  warm,  sunny  April  day;  that  was  another  thing 
to  fill  me  with  gladness.  Soon  I  should  be  mounted  on 
a  nag,  riding  out  in  a  strange  land,  on  a  secret  mission, 
with  a  pocket  full  of  special  service  money.  Whatever 
I  had  felt  in  the  few  days  of  the  sea-passage  was  all 
forgotten  now.  I  did  not  even  worry  about  not  knowing 
the  language.  It  would  keep  me  from  loitering  to  chatter. 
My  school-boy  French  would  probably  be  enough  for 
all  purposes  if  I  went  astray.  I  was  "  to  avoid  chance 
acquaintances,  particularly  if  they  spoke  English." 
That  was  my  last  order.  Repeating  it  to  myself  I  walked 
on  briskly. 

I  had  not  gone  more  than  three  hundred  yards  upon 
my  way,  when  a  lady,  very  richly  dressed,  cantered 
slowly  past  me  on  a  fine  bay  mare.  She  was  followed 
by  a  gentleman  hi  scarlet,  riding  on  a  little  black  Arab. 
They  had  not  gone  a  hundred  yards  past  me  when  the 
Arab  picked  up  a  stone.  The  man  dismounted  to  pick 
it  out,  while  the  lady  rode  back  to  hold  the  horse,  which 


108  MARTIN  HYDE 

was  a  ticklish  job,  since  he  was  as  fresh  as  a  colt.  He 
went  squirming  about  like  an  eel.  The  man  had  no 
hook  to  pick  the  stone  with;  nor  could  he  get  it  out  by 
his  fingers.  I  could  hear  him  growling  under  his  breath 
in  some  strange  language,  while  the  horse  sidled  about  as 
wicked  as  he  could  be. 

As  I  approached,  the  horse  grew  so  troublesome 
that  the  man  decided  to  take  him  back  to  the  town, 
to  have  the  stone  pulled  there.  He  was  just  starting 
to  lead  him  back  when  I  came  up  with  them.  He 
asked  me  some  question  in  a  tongue  which  I  did  not 
know.  He  probably  asked  me  if  I  had  a  hook.  I 
shook  my  head.  The  lady  said  something  to  him  in 
French,  which  made  him  laugh.  Then  he  began  to 
lead  back  the  horse  towards  the  town.  The  lady,  after 
waving  her  hand  to  him,  started  to  ride  slowly  forward  in 
front  of  me.  Like  most  ladies  at  that  time  she  wore  a 
little  black  velvet  domino  mask  over  her  eyes.  All 
people  could  ride  in  those  days;  but  I  remember  it 
occurred  to  me  that  this  lady  rode  beautifully.  So  many 
women  look  like  meal-sacks  in  the  saddle.  This  one 
rode  as  though  she  were  a  part  of  the  horse. 

She  kept  about  twenty  yards  ahead  of  me  till  I  sighted 
the  inn,  where  an  ostler  was  walking  the  little  nag  which 
I  was  to  ride.  She  halted  at  the  inn-door,  looking  back 
towards  the  town  for  her  companion.  Then,  without 
calling  to  anybody,  she  dismounted,  flinging  her  mare's 
reins  over  a  hook  in  the  wall.  She  went  into  the  inn 


I  SEE  MORE  OF  MY  FRIEND  109 

boldly,  drawing  her  whip  through  her  left  hand.  When 
I  entered  the  inn-door  a  moment  later,  she  was  talking 
in  Dutch  to  the  landlord,  who  was  bowing  to  her  as 
though  she  were  a  great  lady.  I  handed  over  my  bottle- 
basket,  with  the  letter,  to  a  woman  who  served  the  cus- 
tomers at  the  drinking  bar.  Then,  as  I  was  going  out 
to  take  my  horse,  the  lady  spoke  to  me  hi  broken  Eng- 
lish. 

"  Walk  my  horse,  so  he  not  take  cold,"  she  said. 

It  was  in  the  twilight  of  the  passage  from  the  door, 
so  that  I  could  not  see  her  very  clearly,  but  the  voice  was 
certainly  like  the  voice  of  the  woman  who  had  fired  at 
me  in  the  courtyard.  Or  was  I  right?  That  voice  was 
on  my  nerves.  It  seemed  to  be  the  voice  of  all  the  stran- 
gers in  the  town.  I  looked  up  at  her  quickly.  She  was 
masked;  yet  the  grey  eyes  seemed  to  gleam  beyond  the 
velvet,  much  as  that  woman's  eyes  had  gleamed.  Her 
mouth;  her  chin;  the  general  poise  of  her  body,  all 
convinced  me.  She  was  the  woman  who  had  carried 
away  the  book  from  Longshore  Jack.  I  was  quite  sure 
of  it.  I  pretended  not  to  understand  her.  I  dropped  my 
eyes,  without  stopping;  she  flicked  me  lightly  with  her 
whip  to  draw  my  attention. 

"  Walk  my  horse,"  she  said  again,  with  a  little  petu- 
lance in  her  voice.  I  saw  no  way  out  of  it.  If  I  refused, 
she  would  guess  (if  she  did  not  know  already)  that  I  was 
not  there  only  for  bottles  of  gin.  "  Oui,  mademoiselle," 
I  said.  "  Oui.  Merci,"  So  out  I  went  to  where  the 


110  MARTIN  HYDE 

mare  stood.  She  followed  me  to  the  door  to  see  me 
take  the  mare.  There  was  no  escape;  she  was  going 
to  delay  me  at  the  door  till  the  man  returned.  I  patted 
the  lovely  creature's  neck.  I  was  very  well  used  to 
horses,  for  in  the  Broad  Country  a  man  must  ride  almost 
as  much  as  he  must  row.  But  I  was  not  so  taken  up 
with  this  mare  that  I  did  not  take  good  stock  of  the  lady, 
who,  for  her  part,  watched  me  pretty  narrowly,  as 
though  she  meant  never  to  forget  me.  I  began  to  walk 
the  beast  in  the  road  in  front  of  the  inn,  wondering  how 
in  the  world  I  was  to  get  out  of  the  difficulty  before  the 
Duke's  carriage  arrived.  There  was  the  woman  watch- 
ing me,  with  a  satirical  smile.  She  was  evidently  enjoy- 
ing the  sight  of  my  crestfallen  face. 

Now  in  my  misery  a  wild  thought  occurred  to  me. 
I  began  to  time  my  walking  of  the  mare  so  that  I  was 
walking  towards  Sandfoort,  while  the  other  horse-boy 
was  walking  with  my  nag  towards  Egmont  on  the  other 
side  of  the  inn.  I  had  read  that  in  desperate  cases  the 
desperate  remedy  is  the  only  measure  to  be  tried.  While 
I  was  walking  away  from  the  inn  I  drew  the  dagger,  the 
spoils  of  war.  I  drew  it  very  gently  as  though  I  were 
merely  buttoning  my  waistcoat.  Then  with  one  swift 
cut  I  drew  it  nine-tenths  through  the  girth.  I  did  noth- 
ing more  for  that  turn,  though  I  only  bided  my  time. 
After  a  turn  or  two  more,  the  other  horse-boy  was 
called  up  to  the  inn  by  the  lady  to  receive  a  drink  of  beer. 
No  doubt  she  was  going  to  question  him  (as  he  drank) 


I  SEE   MORE  OF  MY  FRIEND  111 

about  the  reason  for  his  being  there.  He  walked  up 
leisurely,  full  of  smiles  at  the  beer,  leaving  his  nag  fast 
to  a  hook  in  the  wall  some  dozen  yards  from  the  door. 
This  was  a  better  chance  than  I  had  hoped  for;  so  draw- 
ing my  dagger,  I  resolved  to  put  things  to  the  test. 
I  ripped  the  reins  off  the  mare  close  to  the  bit.  Then 
with  a  loud  shoo,  followed  by  a  whack  in  the  flank, 
I  frightened  that  lovely  mare  right  into  them,  almost 
into  the  inn-door.  Before  they  knew  what  had  happened 
I  was  at  my  own  horse's  head  swiftly  casting  off  the 
reins  from  the  hook.  Before  they  had  turned  to  pursue 
me,  I  was  in  the  saddle,  going  at  a  quick  trot  towards 
Egmont,  while  the  mare  was  charging  down  the  road 
behind  me,  with  her  saddle  under  her  belly,  giving  her 
the  fright  of  her  life. 

An  awful  thought  came  to  me.  "  Supposing  the  lady 
is  not  the  English  spy,  what  an  awful  thing  I  have  done. 
Even  if  she  be,  what  right  have  I  to  cut  her  horse's 
harness?  They  may  put  me  in  prison  for  it.  Besides, 
what  an  ass  I  have  been.  If  she  is  what  I  think,  she  will 
know  now  that  I  am  her  enemy,  engaged  on  very  special 
service."  Looking  back  at  the  inn-door,  I  saw  a  party 
of  people  gesticulating  in  the  road.  A  man  was  shouting 
to  me.  Others  seemed  to  be  laughing.  Then,  to  my 
great  joy,  round  the  turn  of  the  road  came  an  open  car- 
riage with  two  horses,  going  at  a  good  pace.  There  came 
my  masters.  All  was  well.  I  chuckled  to  myself  as  I 
thought  of  the  lady's  face,  when  these  two  passed  her, 


112  MARTIN  HYDE 

leaving  her  without  means  of  following  them.  When  we 
were  well  out  of  sight  of  the  inn,  I  rode  back  to  the  car- 
riage to  report,  wondering  how  they  would  receive  my 
news.  They  received  it  with  displeasure,  saying  that 
I  had  disobeyed  my  orders,  not  only  in  acting  as  I  had 
done;  but  in  coming  back  to  tell  them.  They  bade 
me  ride  on  at  once  to  Egmont,  before  I  was  arrested 
for  cutting  the  lady's  harness.  As  for  their  own  plans, 
whatever  they  were,  my  action  altered  them.  I  do 
not  know  what  they  did.  I  know  that  I  turned 
away  with  a  flea  in  my  ear  from  the  Duke's  reproof. 
I  remember  not  very  much  of  my  ride  to  Egmont, 
except  that  I  seemed  to  ride  most  of  the  time  among 
sand-dunes.  I  glanced  back  anxiously  to  see  if  I  was 
being  pursued;  but  no  one  followed.  I  rode  on  at  the 
steady  lope,  losing  sight  of  the  carriage,  passing  by  dune 
after  dune,  rising  windmill  after  windmill,  to  drop  them 
behind  me  as  I  rode.  In  that  low  country,  I  had  the 
gleam  of  the  sea  to  my  left  hand,  with  the  sails  of  ships 
passing  by  me.  The  wind  freshened  as  I  rode,  till  at 
last  my  left  cheek  felt  the  continual  stinging  of  the  sand- 
grains,  whirled  up  by  the  wind  from  the  bents.  Where 
the  sea-beach  broadened,  I  rode  on  the  sands.  The 
miles  dropped  past  quickly  enough,  though  I  rode  only 
at  the  lope,  not  daring  to  hurry  my  horse.  I  kept  this 
my  pace  even  when  going  through  villages,  where  the 
people  in  their  strange  Dutch  clothes  hurried  out  to 
stare  at  me  as  I  bucketed  by.  I  passed  by  acre  after 


I  SEE  MORE  OF  MY  FRIEND  113 

acre  of  bulb-fields,  mostly  tulip-fields,  now  beginning 
to  be  full  of  colour.  Once,  for  ten  minutes,  I  rode  by  a 
broad  canal,  where  a  barge  with  a  scarlet  transom  drove 
along  under  sail,  spreading  the  ripples,  keeping  alongside 
me.  The  helmsman,  who  was  smoking  a  pipe  as  he  eyed 
the  luff  of  his  sail,  waved  his  hand  to  me,  as  I  loped  along 
beside  him.  You  would  not  believe  it;  but  he  was  one 
of  the  Oulton  fishermen,  a  man  whom  I  had  known  for 
years.  I  had  seen.. that  tan-sailed  barge  many,  many 
times,  rushing  up  the  Waveney  from  Somer  Leyton, 
with  that  same  quiet  figure  at  her  helm.  I  would  have 
loved  to  have  called  out  "  Oh,  Hendry.  How  are  you? 
Fancy  seeing  you  here."  But  I  dared  not  betray  myself; 
nor  did  Hendry  recognize  me.  After  the  road  swung 
away  from  the  canal,  I  watched  that  barge  as  long  as  she 
remained  in  sight,  thinking  that  while  she  was  there  I 
had  a  little  bit  of  Oulton  by  me. 

At  last,  far  away  I  saw  the  church  of  Egmont,  rising 
out  of  a  flat  land  (not  unlike  the  Broad  land)  on  which 
sails  were  passing  in  a  misty  distance.  I  rose  in  my 
stirrups  with  a  holloa;  for  now,  I  thought,  I  was  near 
my  journey's  end.  I  clapped  my  horse's  neck,  promising 
him  an  apple  for  his  supper.  Then,  glancing  back,  I 
looked  out  over  the  land.  The  Oulton  barge  was  far 
away  now,  a  patch  of  dark  sail  drawing  itself  slowly 
across  the  sky.  Out  to  sea  a  great  ship  seemed  to  stand 
still  upon  the  skyline.  But  directly  behind  me,  perhaps 
a  mile  away,  perhaps  two  miles,  clearly  visible  on  the 


114  MARTIN  HYDE 

white  straight  ribbon  of  road,  a  clump  of  gallopers  ad- 
vanced, quartering  across  the  road  towards  me.  There 
may  have  been  twenty  of  them  all  told;  some  of  them 
seemed  to  ride  in  ranks  like  soldiers.  I  made  no  doubt 
when  I  caught  sight  of  them  that  they  were  coming 
after  me,  about  that  matter  of  the  lady's  harness.  /-'  My 
first  impulse  was  to  pull  up,  so  that  Old  Blunderbore, 
as  I  had  christened  my  horse,  might  get  his  breath. 
But  I  decided  not  to  stop,  as  I  knew  how  dangerous  a 
thing  it  is  to  stop  a  horse  in  his  pace  after  he  has  settled 
down  to  it.  I  had  still  three  miles  to  go  to  shelter. 
If  I  could  manage  the  three  miles  all  would  be  well. 
But  could  I  manage  them?  Old  Blunderbore  had  taken 
the  eighteen  miles  we  had  come  together  very  easily. 
Now  I  was  thankful  that  I  had  not  pressed  him  in  the 
early  part  of  the  ride.  But  Egmont  seemed  a  long,  long 
way  from  me.  I  dared  not  begin  to  gallop  so  far  from 
shelter.  I  went  loping  on  as  before,  with  my  heart  in 
my  mouth,  feeling  like  one  pu'rsued  in  a  nightmare. 

As  I  looked  around,  to  see  these  gallopers  coming  on, 
while  I  was  still  lollopping  forward,  I  felt  that  I  was  tied 
by  the  legs,  unable  to  move.  Each  instant  made  it  more 
difficult  for  me  to  keep  from  shaking  up  my  horse.  Con- 
tinual promptings  flashed  into  my  mind,  urging  me  to 
bolt  down  somewhere  among  the  dunes.  These  plans 
I  set  aside  as  worthless;  for  a  boy  would  soon  have  been 
caught  among  those  desolate  sand-hills.  There  was  no 
real  hiding  among  them.  You  could  see  any  person 


I  SEE  MORE  OF  MY  FRIENb  115 

among  them  from  a  mile  away.  I  kept  on  ahead, 
longing  for  that  wonderful  minute  when  I  could  hurry 
my  horse,  in  the  wild  rush  to  Egmont  town,  the  final 
wild  rush,  on  the  nag's  last  strength,  with  my  pursuers, 
now  going  their  fastest,  tailing  away  behind,  as  their 
beasts  foundered.  The  air  came  singing  past.  I  heard 
behind  me  the  patter  of  the  turf  sent  flying  by  Old 
Blunderbore's  hoofs.  The  excitement  of  the  ride 
took  vigorous  hold  on  me.  I  felt  on  glancing  back 
that  I  should  do  it,  that  I  should  carry  my  message,  that 
the  Dutchmen  should  see  my  mettle,  before  they  stopped 
me.  They  were  coming  up  fast  on  horses  still  pretty 
fresh.  I  would  show  them,  I  said  to  myself,  what  a  boy 
can  do  on  a  spent  horse. 

Old  Blunderbore  lollopped  on.  I  clapped  him  on  the 
neck.  "Come  up,  boy!  Up!"  I  cried.  "  Egmont  — 
Egmont!  Come  on,  Old  Blunderbore!"  The  good  old 
fellow  shook  his  head  up  with  a  whinny.  He  could  see 
Egmont.  He  could  smell  the  good  corn  perhaps.  I 
banged  him  with  my  cap  on  the  shoulder.  "  Up,  boy !  " 
I  cried.  I  felt  that  even  if  I  died,  even  it  I  was  shot  there, 
as  I  sailed  along  with  my  King's  orders,  I  should  have 
tasted  life  in  that  wild  gallop. 

A  countryman  carrying  a  sack  put  down  his  load  to 
stare  at  me,  for  now,  with  only  a  mile  to  go,  I  was  going  a 
brave  gait,  as  fast  as  Old  Blunderbore  could  manage. 
I  saw  the  man  put  up  his  hands  in  pretended  terror. 
The  next  instant  he  was  far  behind,  wondering  no  doubt 


116  MARTIN  HYDE 

why  the  charging  squadron  beyond  were  galloping  after 
a  boy.  Now  we  were  rushing  at  our  full  speed,  with 
half  a  mile,  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  two  hundred  yards  to 
the  town  gates.  Carts  drew  to  one  side,  hearing  the 
clatter.  I  shouted  to  drive  away  the  children.  Poultry 
scattered  as  though  the  king  of  the  foxes  was  abroad. 
After  me  came  the  thundering  clatter  of  the  pursuit.  I 
could  hear  distant  shouts.  The  nearest  man  there  was 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  A  man  started  out  to  catch 
my  rein,  thinking  that  my  horse  had  run  away  with  me. 
I  banged  him  in  the  face  with  my  cap  as  I  swung  past 
him.  In  another  second,  as  it  seemed,  I  was  pulled  up 
inside  the  gates. 

As  far  as  I  remember,  —  but  it  is  all  rather  blurred 
now,  —  the  place  where  I  pulled  up  was  a  sort  of  public 
square.  I  swung  myself  off  Old  Blunderbore  just  out- 
side a  tavern.  An  ostler  ran  up  to  me  at  once  to  hold 
him.  So  I  gave  him  a  silver  piece  (what  it  was  worth 
I  did  not  know)  saying  firmly  "  Zwolle-Haus.  Go  on. 
Zwolle-Haus." 

The  ostler  smiled  as  he  repeated  Zwolle-Haus,  pointing 
to  the  tavern  itself,  which,  by  good  luck,  was  the  very 
house. 

"M.  Stendhal,"  I  said.  "Where  is  M.  Stendhal? 
Mynheer  Stendhal?  Mynheer  Stendhal  Haus?  " 

The  ostler  repeated,  "  Stendhal?  Stendhal?  Ah,  ja. 
Stendhal.  Da."  He  pointed  down  a  narrow  street  which 
led,  as  I  could  see,  to  a  canal  wharf. 


I  SEE  MORE  OF  MY  FRIEND  117 

I  thanked  him  in  English,  giving  him  another  silver 
piece.  Then  off  I  went,  tottering  on  my  toes  with  the 
strangeness  of  walking  after  so  long  a  ride.  I  was  not 
out  of  the  wood  yet,  by  a  long  way.  At  every  second,  as 
I  hurried  on,  I  expected  to  hear  the  cries  of  my  pursuers, 
as  they  charged  down  the  narrow  street  after  me.  I 
tried  to  run,  but  my  legs  felt  so  funny,  it  was  like  run- 
ning in  a  dream.  I  just  felt  that  I  was  walking  on  pillows, 
instead  of  legs.  Luckily  that  little  narrow  street  was 
only  fifty  yards  long.  It  was  with  a  great  gasp  of  relief 
that  I  got  to  the  end  of  it.  When  I  could  turn  to  my 
right  out  of  sight  of  the  square  I  felt  that  I  was 
saved.  I  had  been  but  a  minute  ahead  of  the  pursuers 
outside  on  the  open.  Directly  after  my  entrance,  some 
cart  or  waggon  went  out  of  the  town,  filling  the  nar- 
row gateway  full,  so  that  my  enemies  were  forced  to 
pull  up.  This  gave  me  a  fair  start,  without  which  I 
could  hardly  have  won  clear.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
that  lucky  waggon,  who  knows  what  would  have  hap- 
pened? 

As  it  was,  I  tottered  along  with  drawn  pistol  to  the  door 
of  a  great  house  (luckily  for  me  the  only  house),  which 
fronted  the  canal.  I  must  have  seemed  a  queer  object, 
coming  in  from  my  ride  like  that,  in  a  peaceful  Dutch 
town.  If  I  had  chanced  upon  a  magistrate  I  suppose 
I  should  have  been  locked  up;  but  luck  was  with  me  on 
that  day.  I  chanced  only  on  Mynheer  Stendhal  as  he 
sat  smoking  among  his  tulips  in  the  front  of  his  mansion. 


118  MARTIN  HYDE 

He  jumped  up  with  a  "  God  bless  me! "  when  he  saw 
me. 

11  Mynheer  Stendhal?  "  I  asked. 

"Yes/7  he  said  in  good  English.  "What  is  it, 
boy?  " 

"  Take  me  in  quick,"  I  said.    "  They're  after  me." 


LJ~t 


"  TAKE    ME    IN    QUICK,"    I    SAID.       "  THEY'RE    AFTER   ME." 


Page  118 


CHAPTER  X 

SOUNDS  IN  THE    NIGHT 

IN  another  minute,  after  Mr.  Stendhal  had  read  my 
note,  I  was  skinning  off  my  clothes  in  an  upper  bed- 
room. Within  three  minutes  I  was  dressed  like  a  Dutch 
boy,  in  huge  baggy  striped  trousers  belonging  to  Sten- 
dhal's son.  In  four  minutes  the  swift  Mr.  Stendhal 
had  walked  me  across  the  wharf  in  sabots  to  one  of 
the  galliots  in  the  canal,  which  he  ordered  under  way 
at  once,  to  pick  up  Argyle  at  sea.  So  that  when  my 
pursuers  rode  up  to  Mr.  Stendhal's  door  in  search  of  me, 
I  was  a  dirty  little  Dutch  boy  casting  off  a  stern-hawser 
from  a  ring  bolt.  They  seemed  to  storm  at  Mr.  Sten- 
dhal; but  I  don't  know  what  they  said;  he  acted  the 
part  of  surprised  indignation  to  the  life.  When  I  looked 
my  last  on  Mr.  Stendhal  he  was  at  the  door,  begging  a 
search  party  to  enter  to  see  for  themselves  that  I  was 
not  hidden  there.  The  galliot  got  under  way,  at  that 
moment,  with  a  good  deal  of  crying  out  from  her  sailors. 
As  she  swung  away  into  the  canal,  I  saw  the  handsome 
lady  idly  looking  on.  She  was  waiting  at  the  door 
with  the  other  riders.  She  was  the  only  woman  there. 
To  show  her  that  I  was  a  skilled  seaman  I  cast  off  the 
stern-hawser  nimbly,  then  dropped  on  to  the  deck  like 


120  MARTIN  HYDE 

one  bred  to  the  trade.  A  moment  later  I  was  aloft, 
casting  loose  the  gaff-topsail.  From  that  fine  height 
as  the  barge  began  to  move  I  saw  the  horsemen  turning 
away  foiled.  I  saw  the  lady's  feathered  hat,  making 
a  little  dash  of  green  among  the  drab  of  the  riding  coats. 
Then  an  outhouse  hid  them  all  from  sight.  I  was  in  a 
sea-going  barge,  bound  out,  under  all  sail,  along  a  water- 
way lined  with  old  reeds,  all  blowing  down  with  a  rattling 
shiver. 

Now  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you  much  more  of  my 
Holland  experiences.  I  was  in  that  barge  for  about  one 
whole  fortnight,  during  which  I  think  I  saw  the  greater 
part  of  the  Dutch  canals.  We  picked  up  Argyle  at 
sea  on  the  first  day.  After  that  we  went  to  Amsterdam 
with  a  cargo  of  hides.  Then  we  wandered  about  at 
the  wind's  will,  thinking  that  it  might  puzzle  people, 
if  any  one  should  have  stumbled  on  the  right  scent. 
All  that  fortnight  was  a  long  delightful  picnic  to  me. 
The  barge  was  so  like  an  Oulton  wherry  that  I  was  at 
home  in  her.  I  knew  what  to  do,  it  was  not  like  being 
in  the  schooner.  When  we  were  lying  up  by  a  wharf, 
I  used  to  spend  my  spare  hours  in  fishing,  or  in  flinging 
flat  pebbles  from  a  cleft-stick  at  the  water-rats.  When 
we  were  under  sail  I  used  to  sit  aloft  in  the  cross-trees, 
looking  out  at  the  distant  sea.  At  night,  after  a  supper 
of  strong  soup,  we  all  turned  in  to  our  bunks  in  the 
tiny  cabin,  from  the  scuttle  of  which  I  could  see  a  little 
patch  of  sky  full  of  stars. 


SOUNDS  IN  THE  NIGHT  121 

A  boy  lives  very  much  in  the  present.  I  do  not  think 
that  I  thought  much  of  the  Duke's  service,  nor  of 
our  venture  for  the  crown.  If  I  thought  at  all  of  our 
adventures,  I  thought  of  the  handsome  woman  with  the 
gray,  fierce  eyes.  In  a  way,  I  hoped  that  I  might  have 
another  tussle  with  her,  not  because  I  liked  adventure, 
no  sane  creature  does,  but  because  I  thought  of  her  with 
liking.  I  felt  that  she  would  be  such  a  brave,  witty 
person  to  have  for  a  friend.  I  felt  sad  somehow  at  the 
thought  of  not  seeing  her  again.  She  was  quite  young, 
not  more  than  twenty,  if  her  looks  did  not  belie  her.  I 
used  to  wonder  how  it  was  that  she  had  come  to  be  a 
secret  agent.  I  believed  that  the  sharp-faced  horsey 
man  had  somehow  driven  her  to  it  against  her  will. 
Thinking  of  her  at  night,  before  I  fell  asleep,  I  used  to 
long  to  help  her.  It  is  curious,  but  I  always  thought 
tenderly  of  this  woman,  even  though  she  had  twice 
tried  to  kill  me.  A  man's  bad  angel  is  only  his  good  angel 
a  little  warped. 

On  the  second  of  May,  though  I  did  not  know  it 
then,  Argyle  set  sail  for  Scotland,  to  raise  the  clans 
for  a  foray  across  the  Border.  On  the  same  day  I  was 
summoned  from  my  quarters  in  the  barge  to  take  up 
my  King's  service.  Late  one  evening,  when  it  was  almost 
dark  night,  Mr.  Jermyn  halted  at  the  wharf-side  to 
call  me  from  my  supper.  "  Mount  behind  me,  Martin," 
he  said  softly,  peering  down  the  hatch.  "  It's  time,  now." 
I  thought  he  must  mean  that  it  was  time  to  invade 


122  MARTIN  HYDE 

England.  You  must  remember  that  I  knew  little  of 
the  rights  of  the  case,  except  that  the  Duke's  cause  was 
the  one  favoured  by  my  father,  dead  such  a  little  while 
before.  Yet  when  I  heard  that  sudden  summons,  it 
went  through  me  with  a  shock  that  now  this  England 
was  to  be  the  scene  of  a  bloody  civil  war,  father  fighting 
son,  brother  against  brother.  I  would  rather  have 
been  anywhere  at  that  moment  than  where  I  was,  hear- 
ing that  order.  Still,  I  had  put  my  hand  to  the  plough. 
There  was  no  drawing  back.  I  rose  up  with  my  eyes  full 
of  tears  to  say  good-bye  to  the  kind  Dutch  bargemen. 
I  never  saw  them  again.  In  a  moment  I  was  up  the 
wharf,  scrambling  into  the  big  double  saddle  behind 
Mr.  Jermyn.  Before  my  eyes  were  accustomed  to  the 
darkness  we  were  trotting  off  into  the  night  I  knew  not 
whither. 

"  Martin,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn,  half  turning  in  his  saddle, 
"  talk  in  a  low  voice.  There  may  be  spies  any- 
where." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered,  meekly.  For  a  while  after 
that  we  were  silent;  I  was  waiting  for  him  to  tell  me 
more. 

"  Martin,"  he  said  at  length,  "  we're  going  to  send  you 
to  England,  with  a  message." 

"Yes,  sir?"  I  answered. 

"  You  understand  that  there's  danger,  boy?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Life  is  full  of  danger.    But  for  his  King  a  Christian 


SOUNDS  IN  THE  NIGHT  123 

man  must  be  content  to  run  risks.  You  aren't  afraid, 
Martin?  " 

"  No,  SIT,"  I  answered  bravely.  I  was  afraid,  all  the 
same.  I  doubt  if  any  boy  of  my  age  would  have  felt 
very  brave,  riding  in  the  night  like  that,  with  danger 
of  spies  all  about. 

"That's  right,  Martin,"  he  said  kindly.  "That's 
the  kind  of  boy  I  thought  you."  Again  we  were  quiet, 
till  at  last  he  said: 

"  You're  going  in  a  barquentine  to  Dartmouth.  Can 
you  remember  Blick  of  Kingswear?  " 

"  Blick  of  Kingswear,"  I  repeated.    "  Yes,  sir." 

"  He's  the  man  you're  to  go  to." 

"  Yes,  sir.    What  am  I  to  tell  him?  " 

"  Tell  him  this,  Martin.  Listen  carefully.  This,  now. 
King  Golden  Cap.  After  Six  One." 

"King  Golden  Cap.  After  Six  One,"  I  repeated. 
"Blick  of  Kingswear.  King  Golden  Cap.  After  Six 
One." 

"  That's  right,"  he  said.  "  Repeat  it  over.  Don't 
forget  a  word  of  it.  But  I  know  you're  too  careful  a  lad 
to  do  that."  There  was  no  fear  of  my  forgetting  it. 
I  think  that  message  is  burned  in  into  my  brain  under 
the  skull-bones. 

"  There'll  be  cipher  messages,  too,  Martin.  They're 
also  for  Mr.  Blick.  You'll  carry  a  little  leather  satchel, 
with  letters  sewn  into  the  flap.  You'll  carry  stockings 
in  the  satchel.  Or  school-books.  You  are  Mr.  Blick's 


124  MARTIN  HYDE 

sister's  son,  left  an  orphan  in  Holland.  You'll  be  in 
mourning.  Your  mother  died  of  low-fever,  remember, 
coming  over  to  collect  a  debt  from  her  factor.  Your 
mother  was  an  Oulton  fish-boat  owner.  Pay  attention 
now.  I'm  going  to  cross-examine  you  in  your  past 
history." 

As  we  rode  on  into  the  gloom,  in  the  still,  flat,  misty 
land,  which  gleamed  out  at  whiles  with  water  dykes,  he 
cross-examined  me  in  detail,  in  several  different  ways, 
just  as  a  magistrate  would  have  done  it.  I  was  soon 
letter-perfect  about  my  mother.  I  knew  Mr.  Blick's 
past  history  as  well  as  I  knew  my  own. 

"  Martin,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn  suddenly.  "  Do  you 
hear  anything?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered.    "  I  think  I  do,  sir." 

"  What  is  it  you  hear,  Martin?  " 

"  I  think  I  hear  a  horse's  hoofs,  sir." 

"  Behind  us?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.    A  long  way  behind." 

11  Hold  on  then,  boy.    I'm  going  to  pull  up." 

We  halted  for  an  instant  in  the  midst  of  a  wide  flat 
desert,  the  loneliest  place  on  God's  earth.  For  an  instant 
in  the  stillness  we  heard  the  trot  trot  of  a  horse's  hoofs. 
Then  the  unseen  rider  behind  us  halted,  too,  as  though 
uncertain  how  to  ride,  with  our  hoofs  silent. 

"  There,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  You  see.  Now  we'll 
make  him  go  on  again."  He  shook  the  horse  into  his 
trot  again,  talking  to  him  in  a  little  low  voice  that  shook 


SOUNDS  IN  THE  NIGHT  125 

with  excitement.  Sure  enough,  after  a  moment  the  trot 
sounded  out  behind  us.  It  was  as  though  our  wraiths 
were  riding  behind  us,  following  us  home.  "  I'll  make 
sure/'  said  Mr.  Jermyn,  pulling  up  again. 

"  You're  a  cunning  dog,"  he  said  gently.  "  You  heard 
that?  "  Indeed,  it  sounded  uncanny.  The  unseen  rider 
had  feared  to  pull  up,  guessing  that  we  had  guessed  his 
intentions.  Instead  of  pulling  up  he  did  a  much  more 
ominous  thing,  he  slowed  his  pace  perceptibly.  We 
could  hear  the  change  in  the  beat  of  the  horse-hoofs. 
"  Cunning  lad,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  I've  a  good  mind 
to  shoot  that  man,  Martin.  He's  following  us.  Pity 
it's  so  dark.  One  can  never  be  sure  in  the  dark  like  this. 
But  I  don't  know.  I'd  like  to  see  who  it  is." 

We  trotted  on  again  at  our  usual  pace.  Presently 
something  occurred  to  me.  "  Mr.  Jermyn,"  I  said, 
"  would  you  like  me  to  see  who  it  is?  I  could  slip  off  as  we 
go.  I  could  lie  down  flat  so  that  he  would  pass  against 
the  sky.  Then  you  could  come  back  for  me." 

He  did  not  like  the  scheme  at  first.  He  said  that  it 
would  be  too  dark  for  me  to  see  anybody;  but  that  when 
we  were  nearer  to  the  town  it  might  be  done.  So  we 
rode  on  at  our  quick  trot  for  a  couple  of  miles  more, 
hearing  always  behind  us  a  faint  beat  of  hoofs  upon  the 
road,  like  the  echo  of  our  own  hoofs.  After  a  time  they 
stopped  suddenly,  nor  did  we  hear  them  again. 

"  D'you  know  what  he's  done,  Martin?  "  said  Mr. 
Jermyn. 


126  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  No,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"  He's  muffled  his  horse's  hoofs  with  duffle  shoes.  A 
sort  of  thick  felt  slippers.  He  was  in  too  great  a  hurry 
to  do  that  before.  There  are  the  lights  of  the  town." 

"  Shall  I  get  down,  sir?  " 

"  If  you  can  without  my  pulling  up.  Don't  speak. 
But  lay  your  head  on  the  road.  You'll  hear  the  horse, 
then,  if  I'm  right." 

"  Then  I'll  lie  still,"  I  said,  "  to  see  if  I  can  see  who  it 
is." 

"  Yes.  But  make  no  sign.  He  may  shoot.  He  may 
take  you  for  a  footpad.  I'll  ride  back  to  you  in  a 
minute." 

He  slowed  down  the  horse  so  that  I  could  slip  off 
unheard  on  to  the  turf  by  the  roadside.  When  he  had 
gone  a  little  distance,  I  laid  my  ear  to  the  road.  Sure 
enough,  the  noise  of  the  other  horse  was  faint  but  plain 
in  the  distance,  coming  along  on  the  road,  avoiding 
the  turf.  The  turf  was  trenched  in  many  drains,  so  as 
to  make  dangerous  riding  at  night.  I  lay  down  flat  on 
the  turf,  with  my  pistol  in  my  hand.  I  was  excited;  but 
I  remember  that  I  enjoyed  it.  I  felt  so  like  an  ancient 
Briton  lying  in  wait  for  his  enemy.  I  tried  to  guess 
the  distance  of  this  strange  horse  from  me.  It  is  always 
difficult  to  judge  either  distance  or  location  by  sound, 
when  the  wind  is  blowing.  The  horse  hoofs  sounded 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  I  know  not  how  far 
they  really  were.  Very  soon  I  could  see  the  black 


SOUNDS  IN  THE  NIGHT  127 

moving  mass  coming  quietly  along  the  road.  The  duffle 
hoof-wraps  made  a  dull  plodding  noise  near  at  hand. 
Nearer  the  unknown  rider  came,  suspecting  nothing. 
I  could  see  him  bent  forward,  peering  out  ahead.  I 
could  even  take  stock  of  him,  dark  though  it  was.  He 
was  a  not  very  tall  man,  wearing  a  full  Spanish  riding 
cloak.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  checked  his  horse's 
speed  somewhere  in  the  thirty  yards  before  he  passed 
me.  Then,  just  as  he  passed,  just  as  I  had  a  full  view 
of  him,  blackly  outlined  against  the  stars,  his  horse 
shied  violently  at  me,  on  to  the  other  side  of  the  road. 
The  rider  swung  him  about  on  the  instant  to  make 
him  face  the  danger.  I  could  see  him  staring  down 
at  me,  as  he  bent  forward  to  pat  his  horse's  neck.  I 
bent  my  head  down  so  that  my  face  was  hidden  in  the 
grass. 

The  stranger  did  not  see  me.  I  am  quite  sure  that  he 
did  not  see  me.  He  turned  his  horse  back  along  the 
road  for  a  few  snorting  paces.  Then  with  a  sounding 
slap  on  his  shoulder  he  drove  him  at  a  fast  pace  along 
the  turf  towards  me.  I  heard  the  brute  whinny.  He 
was  uneasy;  he  was  trying  to  shy;  he  was  twisting 
away,  trying  to  avoid  the  strange  thing  which  lay 
there.  I  hid  my  head  no  longer.  I  saw  the  horse  above 
me.  I  saw  the  rider  glaring  down.  He  was  going  to 
ride  over  me.  I  saw  his  face,  a  grey  blur  under  his  hat. 
The  horse  seemed  to  be  right  on  top  of  me.  I  started 
up  to  my  feet  with  a  cry.  The  horse  shied  into  the 


128  MARTIN  HYDE 

road,  with  a  violence  which  made  the  rider  rock.  Then, 
throwing  up  his  head,  he  bolted  towards  the  town,  half 
mad  with  the  scare.  Fifty  yards  down  the  road  he  tore 
past  Mr.  Jermyn,  who  was  trotting  back  to  pick  me  up. 
We  heard  the  frantic  hoofs  pass  away  into  the  night, 
growing  louder  as  the  duffle  wraps  were  kicked  off. 
Perhaps  you  have  noticed  how  the  very  sound  of  the 
gallop  of  a  scared  horse  conveys  fear.  That  is  what 
we  felt,  we  two  conspirators,  as  we  talked  together, 
hearing  that  clattering  alarm-note  die  away. 

"  Martin,"  said  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  That  was  a  woman. 
She  chuckled  as  she  galloped  past  me." 

"  Are  you  sure,  sir?  "  I  asked,  half-hoping  that  he 
might  be  right.  I  felt  my  heart  leap  at  the  thought  of 
being  in  another  adventure  with  the  lady. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I'm  quite  sure.  Now  we  must  be 
quick,  so  as  to  give  her  no  time  in  the  town."  When 
I  had  mounted,  we  forced  the  horse  to  a  gallop  till 
we  were  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  walls,  where 
we  pulled  up  at  a  cross-roads. 

"  Get  down,  Martin,"  he  said.  "  We  must  enter  the 
town  by  different  roads.  Turn  off  here  to  the  right. 
Then  take  the  next  two  turns  to  the  left,  which  will 
bring  you  into  the  square.  I  shall  meet  you  there.  Take 
your  time.  There's  no  hurry." 

About  ten  minutes  later,  I  was  stopped  in  a  dark 
quiet  alley  by  a  hand  on  the  back  of  my  neck.  I  saw 
no  one.  I  heard  no  noise  of  breathing.  In  the  pitch 


SOUNDS  IN  THE  NIGHT  129 

blackness  of  the  night  the  hand  arrested  me.  It  was 
like  my  spine  suddenly  stiffening  to  a  rod  of  ice. 
"  Quiet,"  said  a  strange  voice  before  I  could  scream. 
"Off  with  those  Dutch  clothes.  Put  on  these.  Off 
with  those  sabots."  I  was  in  a  suit  of  English  clothes 
in  less  than  a  minute.  "  Boots,"  the  voice  said  in  my 
ear.  "  Pull  them  on."  They  were  long  leather  knee- 
boots,  supple  from  careful  greasing.  In  one  of  them  I 
felt  something  hard.  My  heart  leapt  as  I  felt  it. 

It  was  a  long  Italian  stiletto.  I  felt  myself  a  seaman 
indeed,  nay,  more  than  a  seaman,  a  secret  agent,  with 
a  pair  of  such  boots  upon  me,  "  heeled,"  as  the  sailors 
call  it,  with  such  a  weapon.  "  Go  straight  on,"  said 
the  voice. 

As  I  started  to  go  straight  on,  there  was  a  sort  of 
rustling  behind  me.  Some  black  figure  seemed  to  vanish 
from  me.  Whoever  the  man  was  that  had  brought  me 
the  clothes,  he  had  vanished,  just  as  an  Indian  will 
vanish  into  grass  six  inches  high.  Thinking  over  my 
strange  adventures,  I  think  that  that  changing  of  my 
clothes  in  the  night  was  almost  the  most  strange 
of  all.  It  was  so  eerie,  that  he  should  be  there  at  all, 
a  part  of  Mr.  Jermyn's  plan,  fitting  into  it  exactly, 
though  undreamed  of  by  me.  Would  indeed  that  all 
Mr.  Jermyn's  plans  had  carried  through  so  well.  But 
it  was  not  to  be.  One  ought  not  to  grumble. 

A  few  steps  further  on,  I  came  to  a  public  square, 
on  one  side  of  which  (quite  close  to  where  I  stood)  was 


130  MARTIN  HYDE 

a  wharf,  crowded  with  shipping.  I  had  hardly  expected 
the  sea  to  be  so  near,  somehow,  but  seeing  it  like  that 
I  naturally  stopped  to  look  for  the  ship  which  was  to 
carry  me.  The  only  barquentine  among  the  ships 
lay  apart  from  the  others,  pointing  towards  the  harbour 
entrance.  She  seemed  to  be  a  fine  big  vessel,  as  far  as 
I  could  judge  in  that  light.  I  lingered  there  for  some 
few  minutes,  looking  at  the  ships,  wondering  why  it  was 
that  Mr.  Jermyn  had  not  met  me.  I  was  nervous  about 
it.  My  nerves  were  tense  from  all  the  excitement  of  the 
night.  One  cannot  stand  much  excitement  for  long. 
I  had  had  enough  excitement  that  night  to  last  me 
through  the  week.  As  I  stood  looking  at  the  ships,  I 
began  to  feel  a  horror  of  the  wharf-side.  I  felt  as  though 
the  very  stones  of  the  place  were  my  enemies,  lying  in 
wait  for  me.  I  cannot  explain  the  feeling  more  clearly 
than  that.  It  was  due  probably  to  the  loneliness  of 
the  great  empty  square,  dark  as  a  tomb.  Then,  expecting 
Mr.  Jermyn,  but  failing  to  meet  with  him,  was  another 
cause  for  dread.  I  thought,  in  my  nervousness,  that 
I  should  be  in  a  fine  pickle  if  any  enemies  made  away 
with  Mr.  Jermyn,  leaving  me  alone,  in  that  strange  land, 
with  only  a  few  silver  pieces  in  my  pocket.  Still,  Mr. 
Jermyn  was  long  in  coming.  My  anxiety  was  almost 
more  than  I  could  bear. 

At  last,  growing  fearful  that  I  had  somehow  missed 
him  at  the  mouth  of  the  dark  alley,  I  walked  slowly  back 
in  my  tracks,  wishing  that  I  had  a  thicker  jacket,  since 


SOUNDS  IN  THE  NIGHT  131 

it  was  beginning  to  rain  rather  smartly.  There  was  a 
great  sort  of  inn  on  the  side  of  the  square  to  which  I 
walked.  It  had  lights  on  the  second  floor.  The  great 
windows  of  that  story  opened  on  to  balconies,  in  what  is, 
I  believe,  the  Spanish  way  of  building.  I  remember 
feeling  bitterly  how  cheery  the  warm  lights  looked, 
inside  there,  where  the  people  were.  I  stood  underneath 
the  balcony  out  of  the  rain,  looking  out  sharply  towards 
the  alley,  expecting  at  each  instant  to  see  Mr.  Jermyn. 
Still  he  did  not  come.  I  dared  not  move  from  where  I 
was  lest  I  should  miss  him.  I  racked  my  brains  to  try 
to  remember  if  I  had  obeyed  orders  exactly.  I  won- 
dered whether  I  had  come  to  the  right  square.  I  began 
to  imagine  all  kinds  of  evil  things  which  might  have 
happened  to  him.  Perhaps  that  secret  fiend  of  a  woman 
had  been  too  many  for  him.  Perhaps  some  other  secret 
service  people  had  waylaid  him  as  he  entered  the  town. 
Perhaps  he  was  even  then  in  bonds  in  some  cellar,  being 
examined  for  letters  by  some  of  the  usurper's  men. 


CHAPTER  XI 

AURELIA 

WHILE  I  was  fretting  myself  into  a  state  of  hysteria, 
the  catch  of  one  of  the  great  window-doors  above  me 
was  pushed  back.  Someone  came  out  on  to  the  balcony 
just  over  my  head.  It  was  a  woman,  evidently  in  some 
great  distress,  for  she  was  sobbing  bitterly.  I  thought  it 
mean  to  stand  there  hearing  her  cry,  so  I  moved  away. 
As  I  walked  off,  the  window  opened  again.  A  big  heavy- 
footed  man  came  out. 

"Stop  crying,  Aurelia,"  the  voice  said.  "  Here's 
the  stuff.  Put  it  in  your  pocket." 

"  I  can't,"  the  woman  answered.   "  I  can't." 

I  stopped  moving  away  when  I  heard  that  voice.  It 
was  the  voice  of  the  Longshore  Jack  woman  who  had  had 
those  adventures  with  me.  I  should  have  known  her 
voice  anywhere,  even  choked  as  it  then  was  with  sobs. 
It  was  a  good  voice,  of  a  pleasant  quality,  but  with  a 
quick,  authoritative  ring. 

"  I  can't/'  she  said.    "  I  can't,  Father." 

"Put  it  in  your  pocket,"  her  father  said.  "No 
rubbish  of  that  sort.  You  must." 

"  It  would  kill  me.  I  couldn't,"  she  answered.  "  I 
should  hate  ^f  forever." 


AURELIA  133 

"  No  more  of  that  to  me,"  said  the  cold,  hard  voice 
with  quiet  passion.  "  Your  silly  scruples  aren't  going 
to  outweigh  a  nation's  need.  There  it  is  in  your  pocket. 
Be  careful  you  don't  use  too  much.  If  you  fail  again, 
remember,  you'll  earn  your  own  living.  Oh,  you 
bungler!  When  I  think  of  —  " 

"  I'm  no  bungler.  You  know  it,"  she  answered  pas- 
sionately. "  I  planned  everything.  You  silly  men 
never  backed  me  up.  Who  was  it  guessed  right  this  time? 
I  suppose  you  think  you'd  have  come  here  without  my 
help?  That's  like  a  man." 

"  Don't  stand  there  rousing  the  town,  Aurelia,"  the 
man  said.  "  Come  in  out  of  the  rain  at  once.  Get  your- 
self ready  to  start." 

As  the  window  banged  to  behind  them,  a  figure  loomed 
up  out  of  the  night  —  two  figures,  more.  I  sprang  to  one 
side;  but  th.ey  were  too  quick  for  me.  Someone  flung 
an  old  flour-sack  over  my  head.  Before  I  was  ready  to 
struggle  I  was  lying  flat  on  the  pavement,  with  a  man 
upon  my  eldest. 

"  It's  him,"  said  a  voice.  "  You  young  rip,  where  are 
the  letters?" 

"  What  letters?  "  I  said,  struggling,  choking  against 
the  folds  of  the  sack. 

"  Rip  up  his  boots,"  said  another.  "  Dig  him  with  a 
knife  if  he  won't  answer." 

"  Bring  him  in  to  the  Colonel,"  said  the  first. 

"  I've  got  no  letters,"  I  said. 


134  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Lift  him  up  quick,"  said  the  man  who  had  suggested 
the  knife.  "  In  with  him.  Here's  the  watch." 

"  Quick,  boys,"  the  leader  said.  "  We  mustn't  be 
caught  at  this  game." 

Steps  sounded  somewhere  in  the  square.  Hearing 
them,  I  squealed  with  all  my  strength,  hoping  that 
somebody  would  come. 

"  Choke  him,"  said  one  of  the  men. 

I  gave  one  more  loud  squeal  before  they  jammed  the 
sack  on  my  mouth.  To  my  joy,  the  feet  broke  into  a  run. 
They  were  the  feet  of  the  watch,  coming  to  my  rescue. 

"  Up  with  him,"  said  the  leader  among  my  captors. 
"  Quick,  in  to  the  Colonel  with  him." 

"No,  no!  Drop  it.  I'm  off.  Here's  the  watch," 
cried  the  other  hurriedly. 

They  let  me  drop  on  to  the  pavement  after  half  lifting 
me.  In  five  seconds  more  they  were  scattering  to  shelter. 
As  I  rose  to  my  feet,  flinging  off  the  flour-sack,  I  found 
myself  in  the  midst  of  the  city  watch,  about  a  dozen  men, 
all  armed,  whose  leader  carried  a  lantern.  The  windows 
of  the  great  inn  were  open;  people  were  thronging  on  to 
the  balcony  to  see  what  the  matter  was;  citizens  came  to 
their  house-doors.  At  that  moment,  Mr.  Jermyn  ap- 
peared. The  captain  of  the  guard  was  asking  me  ques- 
tions in  Dutch.  The  guardsmen  were  peering  at  my 
face  in  the  lantern  light. 

Mr.  Jermyn  questioned  me  quickly  as  to  what  had 
happened.  He  interpreted  my  tale  to  the  guard.  I 


AURELIA  135 

was  his  servant,  he  told  them.  I  had  been  attacked 
by  unknown  robbers,  some  of  whom,  at  least,  were 
English.  One  of  them  had  tried  to  stifle  me  with  a  flour- 
sack,  which,  on  examination  under  the  lantern,  proved 
to  be  the  sack  of  Robert  Harling,  Corn-miller,  Eastry. 
Goodness  knows  how  it  came  to  be  there;  for  ship's 
flour  travels  in  cask.  Mr.  Jermyn  gave  an  address, 
where  we  could  be  found  if  any  of  the  villains  were 
caught;  but  he  added  that  it  was  useless  to  expect  me 
to  identify  any  of  them,  since  the  attack  had  been  made 
in  the  dark,  with  the  victim  securely  blindfolded.  He 
gave  the  leader  of  the  men  some  money.  The  guard 
moved  away  to  look  for  the  culprits  (long  before  in 
hiding,  one  would  think),  while  Mr.  Jermyn  took  me 
away  with  him. 

As  we  went,  I  looked  up  at  the  inn  balcony,  from  which 
several  heads  looked  down  upon  us.  Behind  them,  in  the 
lighted  room,  in  profile,  in  full  view,  was  the  lady  of  the 
fierce  eyes.  I  knew  her  at  once,  in  spite  of  the  grey 
Spanish  (man's)  hat  she  wore,  slouched  over  her  face. 
She  was  all  swathed  in  a  Spanish  riding  cloak.  One  took 
her  for  a  handsome  young  man.  But  I  knew  that  she 
was  my  enemy.  I  knew  her  name  now,  too;  Aurelia. 
She  was  looking  down  at  me,  or  rather  at  us,  for  she 
could  not  have  made  out  our  faces.  Her  face  was  sad. 
She  seemed  uninterested;  she  had,  perhaps,  enough 
sorrow  of  her  own  at  that  moment,  without  the  anxie- 
ties of  others.  A  big,  burly,  hulking,  handsome  person, 


136  MARTIN   HYDE 

of  the  swaggering  sort  which  used  to  enter  the  army  in 
those  days,  left  the  balcony  hurriedly.  I  saw  him  at  the 
window,  speaking  earnestly  to  her,  pointing  to  the  square, 
in  which,  already,  the  darkness  hid  us.  I  saw  the 
listlessness  fall  from  her.  She  seemed  to  waken  up  into 
intense  life  in  an  instant.  She  walked  with  a  swift 
decision  peculiar  to  her  away  from  the  window,  leaving 
the  hulking  fellow,  an  elderly,  dissolute-looking  man, 
with  the  wild  puffy  eyes  of  the  drinker,  to  pick  his  teeth 
in  full  view  of  the  square. 

When  we  left  watching  our  enemies,  Mr.  Jermyn 
bade  me  walk  on  tiptoe.  We  scurried  away  across  the 
square  diagonally,  pausing  twice  to  listen  for  pursuers. 
No  one  seemed  to  be  following.  There  was  not  much 
sense  in  following;  for  the  guard  was  busy  searching  for 
suspicious  persons.  We  heard  them  challenging 
passers-by,  with  a  rattle  of  their  halberds  on  the  stones, 
to  make  their  answers  prompt.  We  were  safe  enough 
from  persecution  for  the  time.  We  went  down  a  dark 
street  into  a  dark  alley.  From  the  alley  we  entered 
a  courtyard,  the  sides  of  which  were  vast  houses.  We 
entered  one  of  these  houses.  The  door  seemed  to  open 
in  the  mysterious  way  which  had  puzzled  me  so  much 
in  Fish  Lane.  Mr.  Jermyn  smiled  when  I  asked  him  how 
this  was  done.  "Go  on  in,  boy,"  he  said.  "There 
are  many  queer  things  in  lives  like  ours."  He  gave  me 
a  shove  across  the  threshold,  while  the  door  closed  itself 
silently  behind  us. 


AURELIA  137 

He  took  me  into  a  room  which  was  not  unlike  a  marine 
store  of  the  better  sort.  There  were  many  sailor  things 
(all  of  the  very  best  quality)  lying  in  neat  heaps  on  long 
oak  shelves  against  the  walls.  In  the  middle  of  the  room 
a  table  was  laid  for  dinner.  Mr.  Jermyn  made  me  eat 
a  hearty  meal  before  starting,  which  I  did.  As  I  ate, 
he  fidgeted  about  among  some  lockers  at  my  back. 
Presently,  as  I  began  to  sip  some  wine  which  he  had 
poured  out  for  me,  he  put  something  over  my  shoulders. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  "  this  is  the  satchel,  Martin.  Keep 
the  straps  drawn  tight  always.  Don't  take  it  off  till  you 
give  it  into  Mr.  Blick's  hands.  His  own  hands,  remember. 
Don't  take  it  off  even  at  night.  When  you  lie  down,  lash 
it  round  your  neck  with  spunyarn." 

All  this  I  promised  most  faithfully  to  do.  "  But," 
I  said,  examining  the  satchel,  which  was  like  an  ordinary 
small  old  weather-beaten  satchel  for  carrying  books, 
"  where  are  the  letters,  sir?  " 

"  Sewn  into  the  double  fold  of  the  flap,"  he  answered. 
"  You  wouldn't  be  able  to  sew  so  neatly  as  that.  Would 
you,  now?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  should,  sir,"  I  replied.  "  I'm  a  pretty 
good  hand  with  a  sail-needle.  The  Oulton  fishermen 
used  to  teach  me  the  stitches.  I  can  do  herring-bone 
stitch.  I  can  even  put  a  cringle  into  a  sail." 

"  You're  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world,  I  think," 
Mr.  Jermyn  said.  "  But  choose,  now.  Choose  a  kit 
for  yourself.  You  won't  get  a  chance  to  change  your 


138  MARTIN  HYDE 

clothes  till  you  get  to  Mr.  Blick's  if  you  don't  take  some 
from  here.  So  just  look  round  the  room  here.  Take 
whatever  you  want." 

I  felt  myself  to  have  been  fairly  well  equipped  by  the 
stranger  who  had  made  me  change  my  clothes  in  the 
alley.  But  I  knew  how  cold  the  Channel  may  be  even 
in  June;  so  I  chose  out  two  changes  of  thick  underwear. 
Weapons  I  had  no  need  for,  with  the  armory  already 
in  my  belt;  but  a  heavy  tarred  jacket  with  an  ear-flap 
collar  was  likely  to  be  useful,  so  I  chose  that  instead. 
It  was  not  more  than  ten  sizes  too  large  for  me ;  that  did 
not  matter;  at  sea  one  tries  to  keep  warm;  appearances 
are  not  much  regarded.  Last  of  all,  when  I  had  packed 
my  satchel,  I  noticed  a  sailor's  canvas  "  housewife  " 
very  well  stored  with  buttons,  etc.  I  noticed  that  it 
held  what  is  called  a  "  palm/'  that  is,  the  leather  hand- 
guard  used  by  sail-makers  for  pushing  the  needle  through 
sail  cloth.  It  occurred  to  me,  vaguely,  that  such  a 
"  housewife  "  would  be  useful,  in  case  my  clothes  got 
torn,  so  I  stuffed  it  into  my  satchel  with  the  other  things. 
I  saw  that  it  contained  a  few  small  sail-needles  (of  the 
kind  so  excellent  as  egg-borers)  as  well  as  some  of  the 
strong  fine  sail-twine,  each  thread  of  which  will  support 
a  weight  of  fifty  pounds.  I  put  the  housewife  into  my 
store  with  a  vague  feeling  of  being  rich  in  the  world's 
goods,  with  such  a  little  treasury  of  necessaries;  I  had 
really  no  thought  of  what  that  chance  impulse  was  to 
do  for  me. 


AURELIA  139 

"  Are  you  ready?  "  Mr.  Jermyn  asked. 

"  Yes,  sir.    Quite  ready." 

"  Take  this  blank  drawing-book,"  he  said,  handing 
me  a  small  pocket-book,  in  which  a  pencil  was  stuck. 
"  Make  a  practice  of  drawing  what  you  see.  Draw  the 
ships.  Make  sketches  of  the  coast.  You  will  find  that 
such  drawings  will  give  you  great  pleasure  when  you 
come  to  be  old.  They  will  help  you,  too,  in  impressing 
an  object  on  your  mind.  Drawing  thus  will  give  you  a 
sense  of  the  extraordinary  wonder  of  the  universe.  It 
will  teach  you  a  lot  of  things.  Now  let's  be  off.  It's 
time  we  were  on  board." 

When  we  went  out  of  the  house  we  were  joined  by 
three  or  four  seamen  who  carried  cases  of  bottles  (prob- 
ably gin  bottles).  We  struck  off  towards  the  ship  to- 
gether at  a  brisk  pace,  singing  one  of  those  quick-time 
songs  with  choruses  to  which  the  sailors  sometimes  work. 
The  song  they  sang  was  that  very  jolly  one  called 
11  Leave  her,  Johnny."  They  made  such  a  noise  with 
the  chorus  of  this  ditty  that  Mr.  Jermyn  was  able  to 
refresh  my  memory  in  the  message  to  be  given  to  Mr. 
Blick. 

The  rain  had  ceased  before  we  started.  When  we 
came  into  the  square,  we  saw  that  cressets,  or  big  flaming 
port-fires,  had  been  placed  along  the  wharf,  to  give  light 
to  some  seamen  who  were  rolling  casks  to  the  barquen- 
tine.  A  little  crowd  of  idlers  had  gathered  about  the 
workers  to  watch  them  at  their  job;  there  may  have 


140  MARTIN  HYDE 

been  so  many  as  twenty  people  there.  They  stood  in 
a  pretty  strong,  but  very  unsteady  light,  by  which  I 
could  take  stock  of  them.  I  looked  carefully  among 
them  for  the  figure  of  a  young  man  in  a  grey  Spanish 
hat;  but  he  was  certainly  not  there.  The  barquentine 
had  her  sails  loosed,  but  not  hoisted.  Some  boats  were 
in  the  canal  ahead,  ready  to  tow  her  out.  She  had  also 
laid  out  a  hawser,  by  wjiich  to  heave  herself  out  with 
her  capstan.  I  could  see  at  a  glance  that  she  was  at  the 
point  of  sailing.  As  we  came  up  to  the  plank-gangway 
which  led  to  her  deck  we  were  delayed  for  a  moment  by 
a  seaman  who  was  getting  a  cask  aboard. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,'*  he  said  to  Mr.  Jermyn.  "  I  won't 
keep  you  waiting  long.  This  cask's  about  as  heavy  as 
nitre." 

"  What  'a'  you  got  in  that  cask,  Dick?  "  said  the  boat- 
swain, who  kept  a  tally  at  the  gangway. 

"  Nitre  or  bullets,  I  guess,"  said  Dick,  struggling  to 
get  the  cask  on  to  the  gang  plank.  "  It's  as  heavy  as  it 
knows  how." 

"  Give  Dick  a  hand  there,"  the  boatswain  ordered. 

A  seaman  who  was  standing  somewhere  behind  me 
came  forward,  jogging  my  elbow  as  he  passed.  In  a 
minute  or  two  they  had  the  cask  aboard. 

"  It's  red  lead,"  said  the  boatswain,  examining  the 
marks  upon  it.  "  Sling  it  down  into  the  'tweendecks." 

After  this  little  diversion,  I  was  free  to  go  down  the 
gangway  with  Mr.  Jermyn.  The  captain  received  us  in 


AURELIA  141 

the  cabin.  He  seemed  to  know  my  "  uncle  Blick," 
as  he  called  him,  very  well  indeed.  I  somehow  didn't 
like  the  looks  of  the  man;  he  had  a  bluff  air;  but  it 
seemed  to  sit  ill  upon  him.  He  reminded  me  of  the  sort 
of  farmer  who  stands  well  with  his  parson  or  squire, 
while  he  tyrannizes  over  his  labourers  with  all  the  calcu- 
lating cowardly  cruelty  of  the  mean  mind.  I  did  not 
take  to  Captain  Barlow,  for  all  his  affected  joviality. 
However,  the  ship  was  sailing.  They  showed  me  the 
little  trim  cabin  which  was  to  be  mine  for  the  voyage. 
Mr.  Jermyn  ran  ashore  up  the  gangway,  after  shaking 
me  by  the  hand.  He  called  to  me  over  his  shoulder  to 
remember  him  very  kindly  to  my  uncle.  A  moment 
later,  as  the  hawsers  were  cast  off,  the  little  crowd  on 
the  wharf  called  out  "  Three  cheers  for  the  Gam 
barquentine,"  which  the  Gam's  crew  acknowledged 
with  three  cheers  for  Pierhead,  in  the  sailor  fashion. 
We  were  moving  slowly  under  the  influence  of  the  oared 
boats  ahead  of  us,  when  a  seaman  at  the  forward  capstan 
began  to  sing  the  solo  part  of  an  old  capstan  chanty. 
The  men  broke  in  upon  him  with  the  chorus,  which  rang 
out,  in  its  sweet  clearness,  making  echoes  in  the  city. 
I  ran  to  the  capstan  to  heave  with  them,  so  that  I,  too, 
might  sing.  I  was  at  the  capstan  there,  heaving  round 
with  the  best  of  them,  until  we  were  standing  out 
to  sea,  beyond  the  last  of  the  fairway  lights,  with 
our  sails  trimmed  to  the  strong  northerly  wind.  After 
that,  being  tired  with  so  many  crowded  excitements, 


142  MARTIN  HYDE 

which  had  given  me  a  life's  adventure  since  supper-time, 
I  went  below  to  my  bunk,  to  turn  in. 

I  took  off  my  satchel,  intending  to  tie  it  round  my 
neck  after  I  had  undressed.  Some  inequality  in  the 
strap  against  my  fingers  made  me  hold  it  to  the  cabin 
lamp  to  examine  it  more  closely.  To  my  horror,  I  saw 
that  the  strap  had  been  nearly  cut  through  in  five  places. 
If  it  had  not  been  of  double  leather  with  an  inner  lining 
of  flexible  wire,  any  one  of  those  cuts  would  have  cut 
the  thong  clean  in  two.  Then  a  brisk  twitch  would 
have  left  the  satchel  at  the  cutter's  mercy.  It  gave 
me  a  lively  sense  of  the  craft  of  our  enemies,  to  see  those 
cuts  in  the  leather.  I  had  felt  nothing.  I  had  suspected 
nothing.  Only  once,  for  that  instant  on  the  wharf,  when 
we  stopped  to  let  Dick  get  his  barrel  aboard,  had  they 
had  a  chance  to  come  about  me.  Yet  in  that  instant 
of  time  they  had  suspected  that  that  satchel  contained 
letters.  They  had  made  their  bold  attempt  to  make 
away  with  it.  They  had  slashed  this  leather  in  five 
places  with  a  knife  as  sharp  as  a  razor.  But  had  it  been 
on  the  wharf,  that  this  was  done?  I  began  to  wonder  if  it 
could  have  been  on  the  wharf.  Might  it  not  have  been 
done  when  I  was  at  the  capstan,  heaving  round  on  the 
bar?  I  thought  not.  I  must  have  noticed  a  seaman 
doing  such  a  thing.  It  would  have  been  impossible 
for  any  one  to  have  cut  the  strap  there;  for  the  capstan 
was  always  revolving.  The  man  next  to  me  on  the  bar 
never  took  his  hands  from  the  lever,  of  that  I  was  cer- 


AURELIA  143 

tain.  The  men  on  the  bar  behind  me  could  not  have 
reached  me.  Even  if  they  had  reached  me  the  mate 
must  have  noticed  it.  I  knew  that  sailors  were  often 
clever  thieves;  but  I  did  not  believe  that  they  could  have 
been  so  clever  under  the  mate's  eye.  If  it  had  not  been 
done  at  the  capstan  it  could  not  have  been  done  since 
I  came  aboard;  for  there  had  been  no  other  opportunity. 
I  was  quite  convinced,  after  a  moment's  thought,  that 
it  had  been  done  on  the  wharf  before  I  came  aboard. 
Then  I  wondered  if  it  had  been  done  by  common  shore 
thieves,  or  "  nickers,"  who  are  always  present  in  our 
big  seaport  towns,  ready  to  steal  whenever  they  get  a 
chance.  But  I  was  rather  against  this  possibility;  for 
my  mind  just  then  was  much  too  full  of  Aurelia's  party. 
I  saw  their  hands  in  it.  It  would  have  needed  very 
strong  evidence  to  convince  me  that  they  were  not  at  the 
bottom  of  this  last  attack,  as  they  had  doubtless  been 
in  the  attack  under  the  inn  balcony. 

Thinking  of  their  cunning  with  some  dismay,  I  went 
to  my  door  to  secure  it.  I  was  in  my  stockinged  feet 
at  the  moment,  as  I  had  kicked  my  boots  off  on  coming 
into  the  cabin.  My  step,  therefore,  must  have  been 
noiseless.  Opening  the  door  smartly,  half-conscious  of 
some  slight  noise  on  the  far  side,  I  almost  ran  into 
Captain  Barlow,  who  was  standing  without.  He  showed 
a  momentary  confusion,  I  thought,  at  seeing  me  thus 
suddenly.  It  was  a  bad  sign.  To  me,  in  my  excited  nerv- 
ous state,  it  was  a  very  bad  sign.  It  convinced  me  that 


144  MARTIN  HYDE 

he  had  been  standing  there,  trying  to  spy  upon  me 
through  the  keyhole,  with  what  purpose  I  could  guess 
only  too  well.  His  face  changed  to  a  jovial  grin  in  an 
instant;  but  I  felt  that  he  was  searching  my  face  nar- 
rowly for  some  sign  of  suspicion. 

"  I  was  just  coming  hi  to  see  if  you  wanted  anything," 
he  said. 

"  No.  Nothing,  thanks,"  I  answered.  "  But  what 
time's  breakfast,  sir?  " 

"  Oh,  the  boy'll  call  you,"  he  answered.  "  Is  that 
your  school  satchel?  Hey?  What  you  carry  your 
books  in?  Let's  see  it?  " 

"  Oh,"  I  said,  as  lightly  as  I  could,  feeling  that  he  was 
getting  on  ticklish  ground,  "  I've  not  unpacked  it  yet. 
It's  got  all  my  things  in  it." 

By  this  time  he  was  well  within  my  cabin.  "  Why," 
he  said,  "  this  strap's  almost  cut  in  two.  Does 
your  master  let  you  bring  your  satchel  to  school  in 
that  state?  How  did  it  come  to  be  cut  like  that? 
Hey?  " 

I  made  some  confused  remark  about  its  having  always 
been  in  that  state;  as  it  was  an  old  satchel  which  my 
father  used  for  a  shooting-bag.  I  had  never  known 
boys  to  carry  books  in  a  satchel.  That  kind  of  school  was 
unknown  to  me. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  fingering  the  strap  affectionately, 
as  though  he  was  going  to  lift  it  off  my  head,  "  you 
let  me  take  it  away  with  me.  I've  got  men  in  tnis  ship, 


AURELIA  145 

who  can  mend  a  cut  leather  strap  as  neat  as  you've  no 
idea  of.  They'd  sew  up  a  cut  like  them  so  as  you'd 
hardly  know  it  had  been  cut." 

I  really  feared  that  he  would  have  the  bag  away  from 
me  by  main  force.  But  I  rallied  all  my  forces  to  save 
it.  "  I'm  fagged  now,"  I  said.  "  I  haven't  undone  my 
things.  I'fl  give  it  to  you  in  the  morning." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  he  looked  at  me  rather  hard 
when  I  said  this;  but  he  evidently  thought  "  What  can 
it  matter?  Tomorrow  will  serve  just  as  well."  So  he 
just  gave  a  little  laugh.  "  Right,"  he  said.  "  You  turn 
in  now.  Give  it  to  me  in  the  morning.  Good  night, 
boy." 

"  Good  night,"  I  said,  as  he  left  the  cabin,  adding, 
under  my  breath,  "  Good  riddance,  too.  You  won't  find 
quite  so  much  when  you  come  to  examine  this  bag  by 
daylight."  After  he  had  gone  —  but  not  at  once,  as  I 
wished  not  to  make  him  suspicious,  —  I  locked  my  cabin- 
door.  Then  I  hung  my  tarred  sea-coat  on  the  door-hook, 
so  that  the  flap  entirely  covered  the  keyhole.  There 
were  bolts  on  the  door,  but  the  upper  one  alone  could 
be  pushed  home.  With  this  in  its  place  I  felt  secure  from 
(spies.  Yet  not  too  secure.  I  was  not  certain  that  the 
bulkheads  were  without  crannies  from  which  I  could 
be  watched.  The  crack  by  the  door-hinge  might,  for 
all  I  knew,  give  a  very  good  view  of  the  inside  of  the 
cabin.  Thinking  that  I  might  still  be  under  observation 
I  decided  to  put  off  what  I  had  to  do  until  the  very  early 


146  MARTIN  HYDE 

morning,  so  I  undressed  myself  for  bed.  I  took  care 
to  put  out  the  light  before  turning  in,  so  that  I  might 
not  be  seen  lashing  the  satchel  round  my  neck  with 
a  length  of  spunyarn.  I  slept  with  my  head  upon 
it. 


CHAPTER  XII 

BRAVE   CAPTAIN  BARLOW 

VERY  early  the  next  morning,  at  about  half-past  four, 
a  little  before  sunrise,  I  woke  up  with  a  start,  wondering 
where  I  was.  Looking  through  my  little  scuttle  port, 
I  could  see  the  flashing  of  bright  waves,  which  sometimes 
dowsed  my  window  with  a  shower  of  drops.  The  ship 
was  apparently  making  about  three  knots  an  hour,  under 
all  her  sails.  Directly  I  woke,  I  turned  out  of  my  bunk 
to  do  what  I  had  to  do.  After  dressing,  I  took  my  sail- 
making  tools  from  my  housewife.  I  had  resolved  to 
cut  the  letters  from  their  hiding-place  so  that  I  might 
make  them  up  into  tiny  rolls,  small  enough  to  hide  in 
my  pistol  cartridges.  Very  carefully  I  cut  the  threads 
which  bound  the  leather  flaps  of  the  satchel  together. 
I  worked  standing  up,  with  the  satchel  in  my  bunk.  I 
could  hardly  have  been  seen  from  any  point.  In  a  few 
moments  the  letters  were  in  my  hands.  They  were 
small  sheets  of  paper,  each  about  four  niches  square. 
They  were  nine  in  number,  all  different.  They  were 
covered  with  a  neat  cipher  very  different  from  the  not 
very  neat,  not  quite  formed  hand  of  the  Duke  himself. 
What  the  cipher  was,  I  did  not  know.  It  was  one  of 


148  MARTIN   HYDE 

the  many  figure  ciphers  then  in  use.  I  learned  long 
afterwards  that  the  figures  36  which  frequently  occurred 
in  them  stood  for  King  James  II.  Such  as  they  were, 
those  cipher  letters  made  a  good  deal  of  difference  to 
many  thousands  of  people  then  living  contentedly  at 
home. 

As  soon  as  I  had  removed  them,  I  rolled  them  up 
very  carefully  into  pistol  cartridges  from  which  I  drew 
the  charges.  I  was  just  going  to  throw  away  the  powder, 
when  I  thought,  "  No,  I'll  put  the  powder  back.  It'll 
make  the  fraud  more  difficult  to  detect."  So  I  put  the 
powder  back  with  great  care.  Then  I  searched  my  mind 
for  something  with  which  to  seal  up  the  cartridge  wads 
over  the  powder.  I  could  think  of  nothing  at  all,  till  I 
remembered  the  tar-seams  at  my  feet.  I  dug  up  a 
fragment  of  tar-seam  from  the  dark  corners  of  the  cabin 
under  my  bunk.  Then  I  lit  my  lamp  with  my  little 
pocket  tinder-box,  so  that  I  could  heat  the  tar  as  I 
needed  ft.  It  took  me  a  long  time  to  finish  the  cartridges 
properly;  but  I  flatter  myself  that  I  made  neat  jobs  of 
them.  I  was  trained  to  neat  habits  by  my  father.  The 
Oulton  seamen  had  given  me  a  taste  for  doing  clever 
neat  work,  such  as  plaits,  or  pointing,  so  that  I  was  not 
such  a  bungler  at  delicate  handicraft  as  most  boys  of 
my  age.  I  even  took  the  trouble  to  hide  the  tar  marks 
on  my  wads  by  smearing  wetted  gunpowder  all  over 
them.  When  I  had  hidden  all  the  letters,  I  wrote  out 
a  few  pencilled  notes  upon  leaves  neatly  cut  from  my 


BRAVE  CAPTAIN   BARLOW  149 

pocket-book.  I  wrote  a  varying  arrangement  of  ciphers 
on  each  leaf,  in  the  neatest  hand  I  could  command.  I 
always  made  neat  figures;  but  as  I  had  not  touched  a 
pen  for  nearly  a  month,  I  was  out  of  practice.  Still, 
I  did  very  creditably.  I  am  quite  sure  that  my  neat 
ciphers  gave  the  usurper  James  a  very  trying  week 
of  continual  study.  I  daresay  the  whole  privy  council 
puzzled  over  these  notes  of  mine.  I  felt  very  pleased 
with  them  when  they  were  done. 

I  had  not  much  more  than  a  half-hour  left  to  me 
when  I  finished  writing  them  out.  The  ship's  bells  told 
me  that  it  was  seven  o'clock.  Cabin  breakfast,  as  I 
knew  very  well,  would  be  at  eight.  I  could  expect  to 
be  called  at  half  past  seven.  I  put  the  two  flaps  of  the 
satchel  evenly  together,  removing  all  traces  of  the  thread 
used  in  the  earlier  sewing.  Then  I  very  trimly  sewed  the 
two  flaps  with  my  sail-needle,  using  all  my  strength  to 
make  secure  stitches.  I  used  some  brown  soap  in  the 
wash-hand  stand  as  thread  wax,  to  make  the  sewing 
more  easy.  "  There,"  I  thought,  "  no  one  will  suspect 
that  this  was  sewn  by  a  boy."  When  I  had  finished, 
I  thought  of  dirtying  the  twine  to  make  the  work  look 
old;  but  I  decided  to  let  well  alone.  I  might  so  easily 
betray  my  hand  by  trying  to  do  too  much.  The  slight 
trace  of  the  soap  made  the  work  look  old  enough.  But 
I  took  very  great  care  to  remove  all  traces  of  my  work 
in  the  cabin.  The  little  scraps  of  thread  which  I  had 
cut  out  of  the  satchel  I  ate,  as  I  could  see  no  safer 


150  MARTIN  HYDE 

means  of  getting  rid  of  them.  I  cannot  say  that  they 
disagreed  with  me,  though  they  were  not  very  easy 
to  get  down.  My  palm,  being  a  common  sea-implement, 
not  likely  to  seem  strange  in  a  ship's  cabin,  I  hid  in  a 
locker  below  my  bunk.  My  sail-needles  I  thrust  at  first 
into  the  linings  of  the  pockets  of  my  tarred  sea-coat. 
On  second  thoughts,  I  drove  them  into  the  mattress  of 
my  bunk.  My  hank  of  twine  I  dropped  on  deck  later, 
when  I  went  out  to  breakfast.  Having  covered  all 
traces  of  my  morning's  work,  I  washed  with  a  light  heart. 
When  some  one  came  to  my  cabin-door  to  call  me,  I 
cried  out  that  I  would  be  out  in  a  minute. 

When  the  breakfast  bell  rang,  I  walked  aft  to  the 
great  cabin,  with  my  satchel  over  my  shoulder.  The 
captain  asked  me  how  I  had  slept;  so  I  said  that  I  had 
slept  like  a  top,  until  a  few  minutes  before  I  was  called. 

"  That's  the  way  with  you  young  fellows,"  he  said. 
"  When  you  come  to  be  my  age  you  won't  be  able  to  do 
that."  Presently,  as  we  were  sitting  down  to  breakfast, 
he  began  his  attack  upon  the  satchel.  "  You  still  got 
your  satchel,  I  see,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  carry  it  about 
with  you  always?  Or  are  you  pretending  to  be  a  military 
man  with  a  knapsack?  " 

I  looked  a  little  uncomfortable  at  this;  but  not  from 
the  reason  which  flashed  through  his  mind.  I  said  that 
I  liked  carrying  it  about,  as  it  served  instead  of  a  side 
coat-pocket,  which  was  perfectly  true. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  said;  "you  must  let  me  take  that 


BRAVE  CAPTAIN  BARLOW  151 

beloved  satchel  after  breakfast,  so  that  I  can  get  the 
strap  sewn  up  for  you." 

It  came  into  my  mind  to  look  blank  at  this.  I  stam- 
mered as  I  said  that  I  didn't  mind  the  straps  being  cut, 
because  there  was  a  wire  heart  to  the  leather  which  would 
hold  till  we  got  to  England,  when  I  could  put  on  a  new 
strap  for  myself. 

"  Oh,  nonsense,"  he  said,  serving  out  some  of  the  cold 
bacon  from  the  dish  in  front  of  him.  "  Nonsense. 
What  would  your  uncle  say  if  you  landed  slovenly  like 
that?  Besides,  now  you're  at  sea  you're  a  sailor.  Sailors 
don't  wear  things  like  that  at  meals  any  more  than  they 
wear  their  hats." 

After  this,  I  saw  that  there  was  no  further  chance  of 
retaining  the  satchel,  so  I  took  it  from  my  neck,  but 
grudgingly,  as  though  I  hated  doing  so.  I  heard  no 
more  about  it  till  after  breakfast,  when  he  made  a  sudden 
playful  pounce  upon  it,  as  it  lay  upon'  the  chair  be- 
side me,  at  an  instant  when  I  was  quite  unprepared  to 
save  it. 

"  Aha,"  he  cried,  waving  his  booty.  "  Now  then. 
Now." 

I  knew  that  he  would  expect  a  passionate  outcry 
from  me,  nor  did  I  spare  it;  because  I  meant  him  to 
think  that  I  knew  the  satchel  contained  precious  mat- 
ters. 

"  No,  no,"  I  cried.  "  Let  me  have  it.  I  don't  want  it 
mended." 


152  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  What?  "  he  said.  "  Not  want  it  mended  ?  It  must 
be  mended." 

At  this  I  made  a  sort  of  playful  rush  to  get  it.  Ee 
dodged  away  from  me,  laughing.  I  attacked  again, 
playing  my  part  admirably,  as  I  thought,  but  taking 
care  not  to  overdo  it.  At  last,  as  though  fearing  to 
show  too  great  an  anxiety  about  the  thing.,  I  allowed  him 
to  keep  it.  I  asked  him  if  he  would  be  able  to  sew  the 
leather  over  the  wire  heart. 

"  Why,  yes,"  he  said.  I  could  see  that  he  smiled. 
He  was  thinking  that  I  had  stopped  struggling  in  order 
to  show  him  that  I  set  no  real  value  on  the  satchel. 
He  was  thinking  that  he  saw  through  my  cunning. 

"  Might  I  see  you  sew  it  up?  "  I  said.  "  I  should  like 
to  learn  how  to  sew  up  leather." 

He  thought  that  this  was  another  sign  of  there  being 
letters  in  the  satchel,  this  wish  of  mine  to  be  present 
when  the  sewing  was  done. 

"  Why,  yes,"  he  said.  "HI  do  it  here.  You  shall  do 
it  yourself  if  you  like.  I  will  teach  you."  So  saying,  he 
tossed  me  an  orange  from  his  pocket.  "  Eat  that,"  he 
said,  "  while  I  go  on  deck  to  take  the  sights." 

He  left  the  cabin,  swinging  the  satchel  carelessly  hi 
his  left  hand.  I  thought  to  myself  that  I  had  better 
play  anxiety;  so,  putting  the  orange  on  the  table,  I 
followed  him  into  the  'tweendecks,  halting  at  the  door,  as 
though  in  fear  about  the  satchel's  fate.  Looking  back, 
he  saw  me  there.  My  presence  confirmed  him  in  his 


BRAVE  CAPTAIN  BARLOW  153 

belief  that  he  had  got  my  treasure.  He  waved  to  me. 
"  Back  in  a  minute,"  he  said.  "  Stay  in  the  cabin  till 
I  come  back.  There's  a  story-book  in  the  locker." 

I  turned  back  into  the  cabin  in  a  halting,  irresolute 
way  which  no  doubt  deceived  him  as  my  other  move- 
ments had  deceived  him.  When  I  had  shut  the  door, 
I  went  to  the  locker  for  the  story-book. 

Now  the  story-book,  when  I  found  it,  was  not  a  story- 
book, but  a  little  thick  book  of  Christian  sermons  by 
various  good  bishops.  I  read  one  of  them  through, 
to  try,  but  I  did  not  understand  it.  Then  I  put  the 
book  down  with  the  sudden  thought:  "  This  Captain 
Barlow  cannot  read.  He  thinks  that  these  sermons 
are  stories.  Now  who  is  it  in  this  ship  to  whom  the 
letters  will  be  shown?  Or  can  there  be  no  one  here?  Is 
he  going  to  steal  the  letters  to  submit  them  to  somebody 
ashore?  " 

I  was  pretty  sure  that  there  was  somebody  shut  up 
in  the  ship  who  was  concerned  in  the  theft  with  Barlow. 
I  cannot  tell  what  made  me  so  sure.  I  had  deceived  the 
captain  so  easily  that  I  despised  him.  I  did  not  give 
him  credit  for  any  intelligence  whatsoever.  Perhaps 
that  was  the  reason.  Then  it  came  over  me  vith  a  cold 
wave  of  dismay  that  perhaps  the  woman  Aurelia  was 
on  board,  hidden  somewhere,  but  active  for  mischief. 
I  remembered  that  scrap  of  conversation  from  the  inn- 
balcony.  I  wondered  if  that  secret  mission  mentioned 
then  was  to  concern  me  in  any  way.  What  was  it,  I 


154  MARTIN  HYDE 

wondered,  that  was  put  into  her  pocket  by  her  father  as 
she  stood  crying  there,  just  above  me?  If  she  were  on 
board,  then  I  must  indeed  look  to  myself,  for  she  was 
probably  too  cunning  a  creature  to  be  deceived  by  my 
forgeries.  The  very  thought  of  having  her  in  the  ship 
with  me  was  uncomfortable.  I  felt  that  I  must  find 
some  more  subtle  hiding-place  for  my  letters  than  I 
had  found  hitherto.  I  may  have  idealized  the  woman, 
in  my  alarm,  into  a  miracle  of  shrewdness.  At  any  rate 
I  knew  that  she  would  be  a  much  more  dangerous  op- 
ponent than  plain  Captain  Barlow,  the  jocular  donkey 
who  allowed  himself  to  be  fooled  by  a  schoolboy  who 
was  in  his  power.  I  knew,  too,  that  she  would  prob- 
ably search  me  for  other  letters,  whether  my  ciphered 
blinds  deceived  her  or  not.  She  was  not  one  so  easily 
satisfied  as  a  merchant  skipper;  besides,  she  had  now 
two  scores  against  me,  as  well  as  excellent  reason  to 
think  me  a  sharp  young  man. 

Presently,  after  half  an  hour's  absence,  the  captain 
came  back  with  the  satchel,  evidently  very  pleased  with 
himself.  He  seemed  to  find  pleasure  in  the  sight  of  my 
pretended  distress.  "  Why,"  he  said,  with  a  grin; 
"  you've  not  eaten  your  orange." 

"  No,  sir,"  I  said,  "  I'm  not  very  hungry  just  after 
breakfast." 

"  Why,  then,"  he  answered,  "  you  must  keep  it  for 
your  dinner.  Look  how  nice  I've  mended  your  strap 
for  you." 


BRAVE  CAPTAIN  BARLOW  155 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  sir/'  I  said.  "  But  I  thought 
that  you  were  going  to  do  it  here.  You  were  going  to 
teach  me  how  to  do  it." 

"  Well,  it's  done  now,  isn't  it?  "  he  replied.  "  It's  done 
pretty  good,  too.  I'll  teach  you  how  to  sew  some  other 
time.  I  suppose  they  don't  learn  you  that,  where  you 
go  to  school?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  I  said,  "  they  don't." 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  picking  up  the  book.  "  You're  a  great 
one  for  your  book,  I  see.  There's  very  good  reading  in 
a  book  like  that." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  looking  at  the  mended  strap.  "  There 
is.  How  very  neatly  you've  mended  the  strap,  sir. 
Thank  you  very  much." 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  look  which  said,  very  plainly, 
"  You've  got  a  fine  nerve,  my  lad,  to  pretend  in  that 
way." 

I  could  see  from  his  manner  during  the  next  few 
minutes  that  he  wished  to  keep  me  from  examining  the 
satchel  flap.  No  doubt  he  thought  that  I  was  on  tenter- 
hooks all  the  time,  to  look  to  see  if  the  precious  letters 
had  been  disturbed.  At  last,  in  a  very  easy  way,  after 
slinging  the  strap  round  my  shoulder,  I  pulled  out  my 
handkerchief,  intending  to  put  it  into  the  satchel  as 
into  an  extra  pocket. 

"I'm  going  up  on  deck,  sir,"  I  said.  "May  I  take 
the  book  with  me?  " 

As  he  said  that  I  might,  I  swiftly  opened  the  satchel, 


156  MARTIN  HYDE 

to  pop  the  book  in.  I  could  feel  that  he  watched  my 
face  mighty  narrowly  all  the  time.  No  doubt  I  looked 
guilty  enough  to  convince  him  of  his  cleverness.  I  had 
no  more  than  a  second's  peep  at  the  flap,  but  that  was 
quite  enough  to  show  me  that  it  had  been  tampered 
with.  I  had  finished  off  my  work  that  morning  with  an 
even  neatness.  The  bold  Captain  Barlow  had  left 
two  ends  of  thread  sticking  out  from  the  place  where 
he  had  ended  his  stitch.  Besides,  my  thread  had  been 
soaped,  to  make  it  work  more  easily.  The  thread  in  the 
flap  now  was  plainly  not  soaped;  it  was  fibrous  to 
the  touch,  not  sleeked  down,  as  mine  had  been. 

When  I  went  on  deck,  I  found  the  ship  driving  fast 
down  Channel,  making  an  excellent  passage.  I  took 
up  my  place  by  the  mizzen-rigging,  near  which  there  were 
no  seamen  at  work,  so  that  I  could  puzzle  out  a  new 
hiding-place  for  my  letters.  I  noticed,  as  I  stood  there, 
that  some  men  were  getting  a  boat  over  the  side.  It 
seemed  a  queer  thing  to  be  doing  in  the  Channel,  so  far 
from  the  port  to  which  we  were  bound;  but  I  did  not 
pay  much  attention  to  it  at  the  time,  as  I  was  very 
anxious.  I  was  wondering  what  in  the  world  I  could 
do  with  the  pistol  cartridges  which  I  had  made  that 
morning.  I  feared  Aurelia.  For  all  that  I  could  tell 
she  was  looking  at  me  as  I  stood  there,  guessing,  from 
my  face,  that  I  had  other  letters  upon  me.  It  did  not 
occur  to  me  that  my  anxiety  might  be  taken  for  grief 
at  having  the  satchel  searched.  At  last  it  came  into 


BRAVE  CAPTAIN  BARLOW  157 

my  head  that  Aurelia,  if  she  were  in  the  ship,  would 
follow  up  that  morning's  work  promptly,  before  I 
could  devise  a  fresh  hiding-place.  At  any  rate  I  felt 
pretty  sure  that  I  should  not  be  much  out  of  that  ob- 
servation until  the  night.  It  came  into  my  head  that 
the  next  attack  would  be  upon  my  boots ;  for  in  those 
days  secret  agents  frequently  hid  their  papers  above 
a  false  boot-sole,  or  stitched  them  into  the  double 
leather  where  the  beckets,  or  handles,  joined  the  leg 
of  the  boot  at  the  rim. 

Sure  enough,  I  had  not  been  very  long  on  deck  when 
the  ship's  boy  appeared  before  me.  He  was  an  abject 
looking  lad,  like  most  ship's  boys.  I  suppose  no  one 
would  become  a  ship's  boy  until  he  had  proved  himself 
unfit  for  life  anywhere  else.  Personally,  I  had  rather 
be  a  desert  savage  than  a  ship's  boy.  My  experience 
on  La  Reina  was  enough  to  sicken  me  of  such  a  life 
forever.  This  barquentine's  boy  came  up  to  me,  as  I 
have  said. 

"  Sir,"  he  said,  "  can  I  take  away  your  boots  to  black, 
please?  " 

"  No,"  I  answered,  "  my  boots  don't  want  blacking. 
I  grease  them  myself." 

"  Please,  sir,"  he  said,  "  do  let  me  take  them  away, 
sir." 

"  No,"  I  said.    "  I  grease  them  myself,  thank  you." 

I  thought  that  this  would  end  the  business;  but  no 
such  matter. 


158  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Please,  sir/'  he  said,  "  I  wish  you  would  let  me  take 
them  away.  The  captain'll  wale  me  if  I  don't.  He 
gave  me  orders,  sir." 

"  Don't  call  me  '  sir/  "  I  said.  "  I'll  see  the  captain 
myself." 

I  walked  quickly  to  the  companion-way,  below  which 
(listening  to  us,  like  the  creature  he  was)  sat  the  captain, 
carving  the  end  of  a  stick. 

"  Please,  sir,"  I  said,  "  I've  already  greased  my  boots 
this  morning.  I  always  grease  them."  (I  had  only  had 
them  about  twelve  hours.)  "  If  I  blacked  them  they'd 
get  so  dry  that  they  would  crack." 

"  All  right.  All  right,  boy,"  he  answered.  "  I  forgot 
you  wore  soft-leather  boots.  They're  the  kind  they  buy 
up  to  make  salt  beef  of  at  the  Navy  Yard."  He  grinned 
in  my  face,  as  though  he  were  pleased;  but  a  few  min- 
utes later,  when  I  had  gone  forward,  I  heard  him  thrash- 
ing the  wretched  boy,  because  he  had  failed  to  get 
the  boots  from  me  for  him. 

I  soon  found  that  I  was  pretty  closely  watched.  If 
I  went  forward  to  the  fo'c's'le,  I  found  myself  dogged  by 
the  ship's  boy,  who  was  blubbering  from  his  whipping, 
poor  lad,  as  though  his  heart  would  break.  In  between 
his  sobs,  he  tried  to  tell  me  the  use  of  everything  forward, 
which  was  trying  to  me,  as  I  knew  more  than  he  knew. 
If  I  went  aft,  the  mate  would  come  rolling  up,  to  ask 
me  if  I  could  hear  the  dog-fish  bark  yet.  If  I  went  below 
the  captain  got  on  to  my  tracks  at  once.  He  was  by  far 


BRAVE  CAPTAIN  BARLOW  159 

the  worst  of  the  three:  the  other  two  were  only  obeying 
his  orders.  I  went  into  my  cabin  hoping  to  get  rid  of 
him  there;  but  no,  it  was  no  use.  In  he  came,  too,  with 
the  excuse  that  he  wished  to  see  if  I  had  enough  clothes 
on  my  bunk.  It  was  more  worrying  than  words  can 
tell.  All  the  time  I  wondered  whether  he  would  end 
by  knocking  me  senseless  so  that  he  might  search  my 
boots  at  his  ease.  I  had  the  fear  of  that  strongly  on  me. 
I  was  tempted,  yet  feared,  to  drive  him  from  me  by 
threatening  him  with  my  pistol.  His  constant  dogging 
of  me  was  intolerable.  But  had  I  threatened  him,  he 
would  have  had  an  excuse  for  maltreating  me.  My  duty 
was  to  save  the  letters,  not  to  worry  about  my  own 
inconveniences.  Often,  since  then,  I  have  suffered 
agonies  of  remorse  at  not  giving  up  the  letters  meekly. 
Had  I  done  so,  I  might,  who  knows,  have  saved  some  two 
thousand  lives.  Well.  We  are  all  agents  of  a  power 
greater  than  ourselves.  Though  I  was,  it  may  be,  doing 
wrong  then,  I  was  doing  wrong  unwittingly.  Had  things 
happened  only  a  little  differently,  my  wrong  would 
have  turned  out  a  glorious  right.  The  name  of  Martin 
Hyde  would  have  been  in  the  history  books.  He  watched 
me  narrowly  as  I  took  off  my  waistcoat  (pretending 
to  be  too  hot),  nor  did  he  forget  to  eye  the  waistcoat. 
"  See  here/'  he  said.  "  Do  you  know  how  a  sailor  folds 
a  waistcoat?  Give  it  to  me  now.  I'll  show  you."  He 
snatched  it  from  my  hands  with  that  rudeness  which, 
in  a  boorish  nature,  passes  for  fun;  he  only  wished  to 


160  MARTIN  HYDE 

feel  it  over  so  that  if  any  letter  were  sewn  within  it 
he  might  hear  the  paper  crackle.  The  sailor's  way  of 
folding  a  waistcoat,  as  shown  by  him  then,  was  just 
the  way  which  bent  all  the  cloth  in  folds.  He  seemed  to 
be  much  disgusted  at  hearing  no  crackling  as  he  folded 
it.  I  could  have  laughed  outright  at  his  woeful  face, 
had  I  been  less  anxious.  Had  he  been  worth  his  salt 
as  a  spy  he  would  have  lulled  all  my  suspicions  to  sleep 
before  beginning  to  search  for  letters.  Instead  of  that 
he  went  to  work  as  crudely  as  a  common  footpad. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IT  BREEZES   UP 

AFTER  I  had  taken  off  my  waistcoat,  I  went  out  into 
the  'tweendecks,  then  into  the  grand  cabin,  then  into 
the  space  below  the  booms.  He  followed  me  every- 
where, keeping  me  under  observation,  till  I  was  tempted 
to  tell  him  where  the  letters  were,  so  as  to  have  a  little 
peace.  At  first  he  kept  telling  me  stories,  or  making 
bad  jokes;  but  very  soon  he  grew  weary  of  pretending; 
he  became  surly.  At  this  point  I  asked  him  which  was  his 
cabin.  He  glowered  at  me  for  asking  such  a  question, 
but  he  pointed  it  out  to  me.  It  was  a  cabin  no  larger 
than  my  own,  on  the  opposite  (that  is  the  port)  side  of 
the  'tweendecks.  I  took  the  opportunity  (it  was  a  bold 
stroke,  evidently  displeasing  to  him)  of  looking  in;  for 
to  tell  the  truth  I  had  a  suspicion  that  he  slept  in  the 
grand  cabin,  on  the  top  of  the  locker.  I  thought  that 
the  stateroom  had  another  inmate.  When  I  looked 
into  it  I  expected  to  find  myself  in  Aurelia's  presence. 
I  did  not  want  to  see  her;  but  I  wished  very  eagerly 
to  know  if  she  were  in  the  ship  or  not.  The  stateroom 
was  empty,  but  the  bunk,  which  had  been  slept  in,  was 
not  yet  made  up. 


162  MARTIN  HYDE 

I  do  not  know  how  much  longer  he  would  have 
dogged  me  about  the  ship.  To  my  great  joy  he  was 
called  from  me  by  the  mate,  who  cried  down  the  hatch- 
way, bidding  him  come  up  at  once,  as  there  was  "  some- 
thing in  sight."  Captain  Barlow  evidently  wanted  me 
to  come  on  deck  with  him;  but  I  was  resolute.  I  said  I 
would  stop  below  to  have  another  try  at  his  stories. 
He  went  on  deck  surlily,  saying  something  about  "  You 
wait,"  or  "  You  whelp,"  I  could  not  catch  his  exact 
words.  He  turned  at  the  hatchway  to  see  where  I  had 
gone.  I  had  expected  this  move,  so  when  he  looked,  he 
saw  me  entering  the  grand  cabin,  just  as  I  had  said. 
I  watched  him  through  the  crack  in  the  hinge;  for  I 
fully  expected  him  to  return  suddenly.  As  he  did  not 
return  on  the  instant,  I  darted  into  my  own  cabin, 
just  long  enough  to  drop  the  letter  cartridges  into  an 
old  tin  slush-pot  which  was  stowed  in  the  locker  below 
the  bunk.  I  had  noted  it  in  the  early  morning  when 
I  had  done  my  sewing.  I  pressed  the  cartridges  into  the 
slush,  till  they  were  all  hidden.  In  another  instant  of 
time  the  pot  was  back  in  the  locker  among  the  other 
oddments  while  I  was  back  in  the  cabin  hard  at  work  at 
my  sermons.  I  was  conscious  that  the  captain  glanced 
through  the  skylight  at  me.  No  doubt  what  he  saw 
reassured  him.  For  the  moment  I  felt  perfectly  safe. 

About  half  an  hour  later,  I  heard  a  great  noise  of 
hauling  on  deck,  followed  by  the  threshing  of  our  sails, 
as  though  they  had  suddenly  come  aback.  I  knew  enough 


IT  BREEZES  UP  163 

of  the  sea  to  know  that  if  we  were  tacking  there  would 
be  other  orders,  while,  if  the  helmsman  had  let  the  ship 
come  aback  by  accident  I  should  have  heard  the  officers 
rating  him.  I  heard  neither  oaths  nor  orders;  something 
else  was  happening.  A  glance  out  of  the  stern  windows 
showed  me  that  the  ship  was  no  longer  under  way.  She 
was  not  moving  through  the  water.  It  struck  me  that  I 
had  better  go  on  deck  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  When 
I  reached  the  deck  I  found  that  the  barquentine  was 
hove-to  (that  is,  held  motionless  by  a  certain  arrange- 
ment of  the  sails)  about  half  a  mile  from  a  small  full- 
rigged  ship  which  had  hove-to  likewise.  The  barquen- 
tine's  boat  was  rapidly  pulling  towards  this  full-rigged 
ship,  with  Captain  Barlow  sitting  in  the  stern-sheets. 
The  ship  was  a  man-of-war;  for  she  flew  the  St.  George's 
banner,  as  well  as  a  pennant.  Her  guns  were  pointing 
through  her  ports,  eight  bright  brass  guns  to  a  broadside. 
She  was  waiting  there,  heaving  in  huge  stately  heaves, 
for  Captain  Barlow's  message. 

Now  I  had  had  alarms  enough  since  I  entered  the 
Duke's  service;  but  I  confess  this  sight  of  the  man-of- 
war  daunted  me  worse  than  any  of  them.  I  knew  that 
Captain  Barlow  had  stopped  her,  so  that  he  might  hand 
over  my  letters  to  her  captain;  that  was  easily  guessed. 
The  next  question  was,  would  the  captain  insist  on  taking 
the  messenger  to  be  examined  in  person.  It  was  that 
which  scared  me  worst.  I  had  heard  frightful  tales 
about  political  prisoners.  They  were  shut  up  in  the 


164  MARTIN  HYDE 

Tower  dungeons,  away  below  the  level  of  the  Thames. 
They  were  examined  there  by  masked  magistrates  who 
wrung  the  truth  from  them  by  the  "  bootikins,"  which 
squeezed  the  feet,  or  by  the  thumbscrews,  which  twisted 
the  thumbs.  My  feet  seemed  to  grow  red-hot  when  I 
thought  of  that  horror.  I  knew  only  too  well  that  my 
youth  would  not  save  me.  James  the  Second  was 
never  moved  by  pity  towards  a  beaten  enemy.  I 
watched  the  arrival  of  the  boat  at  the  ship's  side,  with 
the  perspiration  running  down  my  face.  I  began  to 
understand,  now,  what  was  meant  by  the  words  high 
treason.  I  saw  all  the  majesty  of  the  English  Navy, 
all  the  law,  all  the  noble  polity  of  England,  arrayed 
to  judge  a  boy  to  death,  for  a  five  minutes'  prank.  They 
would  drag  me  on  a  hurdle  to  Tyburn,  as  soon  as  torture 
had  made  me  tell  my  tale. 

But  enough  of  my  state  of  mind.  I  saw  Captain 
Barlow  go  up  the  ship's  gangway,  where  an  officer 
no  doubt  received  him.  Very  soon  afterwards  he  came 
down  the  gangway  again,  half  followed  by  some  one  who 
seemed  to  be  ordering  him.  His  boat  then  shoved  off 
for  the  barquentine.  The  man-of-war  got  under  way 
again  by  swinging  her  great  mainyard  smartly  about. 
The  smother  at  her  bows  gleamed  whiter  at  the  very 
instant,  as  she  gathered  way.  It  was  a  blessed  sight  to 
me,  after  my  suspense,  I  assure  you;  but  I  did  not 
understand  it  till  later.  I  learned  later  on  that  Captain 
Barlow  was  one  of  a  kind  of  men  very  common  in  those 


IT  BREEZES  UP  165 

troublous  times.  He  was  hedging,  or  trimming.  He 
was  quite  willing  to  make  money  by  selling  the  Duke's 
plans  to  the  king;  but  he  had  the  sense  to  see  that  the 
Duke's  party  might  succeed,  in  which  case  the  King's 
favour  would  not  be  worth  much.  So  his  treason  to  the 
Duke  stopped  short  of  the  betrayal  of  men  attached 
in  any  way  to  the  Monmouth  party.  He  would  betray 
letters,  when  he  could  lay  his  hands  on  them  unobserved; 
but  he  was  not  going  to  become  an  open  enemy  to  the 
Duke  until  he  knew  that  the  Duke's  was  the  losing  side; 
then  he  would  betray  men  fast  enough.  Until  then,  he 
would  receive  the  trust  of  both  factions,  in  order  to 
betray  a  portion  of  the  confidence  received  from  them. 
The  day  dragged  by  for  me  somehow,  uncomfort- 
ably, under  the  captain's  eye.  It  was  one  of  the 
longest  days  I  have  ever  known.  It  sickened  me 
utterly  of  the  life  of  adventure  to  which  I  now  seemed 
pledged.  I  vowed  that  if  I  had  the  chance  I  would 
write  to  my  uncle  from  Mr.  Blick's  house,  begging  to  be 
received  back.  That  seemed  to  be  the  only  way  of 
escape  possible  to  me.  It  did  not  seem  hopeful;  but 
it  gave  me  some  solace  to  think  of  it.  I  longed  to  be  free 
from  these  terrors.  You  don't  know  what  an  adventur- 
ous life  is.  I  will  tell  you.  It  is  a  life  of  sordid  unquiet, 
pursued  without  plan,  like  the  life  of  an  animal.  Have 
you  seen  a  dog  trying  to  cross  a  busy  street?  There  is 
the  adventurer.  Or  the  rabbit  on  the  cliff,  in  his  state 
of  continual  panic;  he,  too,  lives  the  adventurous  life. 


166  MARTIN  HYDE 

What  does  the  world  owe  to  the  adventurer?  But  there. 
I  become  impatient.  One  patient  hero  in  his  garret  is 
worth  all  these  silly  fireworks  put  together. 

One  thing  more  happened  on  that  day.  The  breeze 
freshened  all  the  afternoon  till  by  bedtime  it  blew  what 
is  called  a  fresh  gale.  Captain  Barlow  drove  his  ship 
till  she  shook  to  her  centre,  not  because  he  liked  (like 
many  sailors)  to  show  his  vessel's  paces;  but  because 
he  sat  at  his  bottle  too  long  after  dinner.  He  was  half 
drunk  by  supper  time,  too  drunk  to  take  the  sail  off  her; 
so  we  drove  on  down  Channel,  trusting  to  the  goodness 
of  the  gear.  There  would  have  been  a  pretty  smash-up 
if  we  had  had  to  alter  our  course  hurriedly.  As  it  was  we 
were  jumping  like  a  young  colt,  in  a  welter  of  foam,  with 
two  men  at  the  tiller,  besides  a  gang  on  the  tackles. 
I  never  knew  any  ship  to  bound  about  so  wildly.  I 
passed  the  evening  after  supper  on  deck,  enjoying  the 
splendour  of  that  savage  leaping  rush  down  Channel, 
yet  just  a  little  nervous  at  the  sight  of  our  spars  buckling 
under  the  strain.  The  captain  was  drunk  before  dark; 
we  could  hear  him  banging  the  table  with  his  bottle. 
The  mate,  who  was  on  the  poop  with  me,  kept  glancing 
from  the  spars  to  the  skylight;  he  was  getting  frightened 
at  the  gait  we  were  going.  "  Young  man,"  he  said, 
"  d'ye  know  the  sailor's  catechism?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  I  answered.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  it's  short 
but  sweet,  like  a  ration  of  rum.  What  is  the  complete 
duty  of  a  sailorman?  You  don't  know?  It's  this.  Obey 


IT  BREEZES  UP  1^7 

orders,  if  you  break  owners.  My  orders  are  not  to  take  off 
sail  till  Mr .  drunken  Barlow  sees  fit.  You'll  see  a  few  hap- 
penings aloft  just  now  if  he  don't  see  fit  soon."  Just  at 
that  instant  she  gave  a  lurch  which  sent  one  of  the  helms- 
men flying.  The  mate  leaped  to  his  place  with  an  angry 
exclamation.  "  Another  man  to  the  helm,"  he  cried. 
"  You,  boy.  Run  below.  Tell  the  captain  she'll  be 
dismasted  in  another  five  minutes."  He  was  in  the  right 
of  it.  A  blind  man  could  have  told  that  the  ship  was 
being  over-driven.  I  ran  down,  as  eager  as  the  mate 
to  put  an  end  to  the  danger. 

When  I  went  below,  I  found  the  captain  in  my  cabin, 
rummaging  everywhere.  He  had  flung  out  the  contents 
of  the  lockers,  my  bedclothes,  everything,  in  a  jumble 
on  the  deck,  which,  in  a  drunken  aimless  way  he  was 
examining  by  the  light  of  a  couple  of  dip  candles,  stuck 
to  the  edge  of  the  bunk.  It  was  not  a  time  to  mind  about 
that.  "  Sir,"  I  said,  "  the  ship  is  sinking.  Come  on 
deck,  sir;  take  the  sail  off.  The  mate  says  the  ship  is 
sinking." 

"  Eh,"  said  the  captain  furiously.  "  You  young 
spy.  I  command  this  ship.  What's  the  sail  got  to  do 
with  you?  "  He  glared  at  me  in  drunken  anger.  "  You 
young  whelp,"  he  cried,  grabbing  me  by  the  collar. 
"  Where  are  your  letters?  Eh?  Where've  you  hid 
your  letters?  " 

At  that  instant,  there  came  a  more  violent  gust  in 
the  fierceness  of  wind  which  drove  us.  The  ship  gave 


168  MARTIN  HYDE 

a  "  yank;  "  there  is  no  other  word  to  express  the  fright- 
ful shock  of  her  movement.  She  lay  down  on  her  lee 
beam  ends  with  a  crash  of  breaking  crockery.  Casks 
broke  loose  in  the  hold;  gear  fell  from  aloft;  the  captain 
was  flung  under  me  against  the  ship's  side.  The  deck 
beneath  us  sloped  up  like  a  roof.  In  the  roar  of  water 
rushing  down  the  hatch  I  remember  thinking  that  the 
Day  of  Judgment  was  come.  Yells  on  deck  mingled 
with  all  the  uproar;  I  heard  something  thud  like  a  sledge- 
hammer on  the  ship's  side.  The  captain  picked  himself 
up  holding  his  head,  which  was  all  one  gore  of  blood 
from  the  crack  against  the  ship's  side.  "  Beam  ends" 
he  said  stupidly.  "  Beam  ends.  Yes.  Yes."  He  was 
dazed;  he  did  not  know  what  he  said;  but  some  sort 
of  sailor's  instinct  told  him  that  he  was  wanted  on  deck. 
At  any  rate  he  went  out,  pulling  himself  up  the  steep 
deck  with  a  cleverness  which  I  had  not  expected.  He 
left  me  clutching  the  ledge  of  the  bunk,  staring  up  at  the 
door  away  above  me,  while  the  wreck  of  my  belongings 
banged  about  at  my  feet.  I  thought  it  was  all  over  with 
the  ship;  but  I  was  not  scared  at  the  prospect  of  death; 
only  a  little  sickish  from  the  shock  of  that  sudden 
sweeping  over.  I  found  a  fascination  in  the  horrible 
open  door,  the  black  oblong  hole  in  the  air  through  which 
the  captain  had  passed.  I  waited  for  the  sea  to  pour 
down  it.  I  expected  to  see  a  clear  mass  of  water  with 
fish  in  it;  something  quite  calm,  something  beautiful, 
not  the  noisy  horror  of  the  sea  outside.  I  suppose  I 


IT  BREEZES  UP  169 

waited  like  that  for  a  full  minute  before  the  roar  of  the 
squall  grew  less.  Then  I  told  myself  that  I  must  go 
on  deck;  that  the  danger  would  be  less,  looking  it  in 
the  face,  than  down  there  in  the  cabin.  It  was  not 
pleasant  to  go  on  deck,  any  more  than  it  is  pleasant 
to  go  downstairs  at  two  in  the  morning  to  look  for  bur- 
glars, but  it  was  better  to  be  moving  than  staying  still. 
I  clenched  my  fist  upon  the  only  dip  which  remained 
alight  (the  other  was  somewhere  in  the  jumble  under 
my  feet).  Then,  catching  hold  of  the  door-hook  I 
pulled  myself  up  to  the  door,  where  I  steadied  myself 
for  a  moment.  While  I  stood  there  I  had  a  horrible 
feeling  of  the  ship  having  died  under  my  feet.  She  had 
been  leaping  so  gallantly  only  five  minutes  before. 
Now  she  lay  with  her  heart  broken,  while  the  seas  beat 
her  with  great  thumps. 

Two  battle-lanterns  lit  the  after  'tweendecks.  There 
was  a  great  heap  of  staved  in  casks,  slopping  about 
in  an  inch  or  two  of  water,  all  along  that  side,  thrown 
there  by  the  smash.  I  could  hear  the  men  yelling  on 
deck.  Captain  Barlow  was  swearing  in  loud  shouts. 
I  could  hear  all  this  in  the  lull  of  the  squall.  I  heard 
more  than  that,  as  I  stood  listening.  I  heard  the  faint 
crying  out  of  a  woman's  voice  from  the  steward's  pantry 
(next  door  to  the  captain's  cabin)  on  the  opposite  side, 
across  the  steep,  tipped  up  slippery  deck.  At  first  I 
thought  it  must  be  the  poor  cat;  but  as  the  wind  passed, 
letting  me  hear  more  clearly,  I  recognized  that  it  was  a 


170  MARTIN  HYDE 

woman's  voice,  crying  out  there  in  the  darkness  with  a 
note  of  pain.  I  did  not  think  of  Aurelia.  She  never 
entered  my  head.  All  that  I  thought  was  "  Poor  crea- 
ture! What  a  place  for  a  woman! "  The  ship  was  jerk- 
ing, you  might  almost  call  it  gasping,  as  the  seas  struck 
her;  it  was  no  easy  job  to  climb  along  that  roof -slope 
of  a  deck  with  nothing  to  hold  on  by.  I  got  across 
somehow,  partly  by  luck,  partly  by  finger-nails.  I  even 
managed  to  open  the  pantry  door,  which  was  another 
difficulty,  as  it  opened  inwards,  into  the  cabin.  As  I 
opened  it,  a  suck  of  wind  blew  out  my  light.  There  I 
was  in  the  dark,  with  a  hurt  woman,  in  a  ship  which, 
for  all  I  knew,  might  sink  with  all  hands  in  twenty  sec- 
onds. It  is  queer;  I  didn't  mind  the  ship  sinking,  What 
I  disliked  was  being  in  the  dark  with  an  unknown  some- 
body who  whimpered. 

"  Are  you  much  hurt?  "  I  asked.  "  Hold  on  a  minute. 
I'll  strike  a  light."  I  shut  myself  into  the  cabin,  so 
as  to  keep  out  the  draught.  My  feet  kicked  among  the 
steward's  crockery.  It  was  as  dark  in  that  cubby-hole 
as  in  a  grave.  The  unknown  person,  probably  fearing 
me,  thinking  me  some  rough  drunken  sailor,  was  crying 
out  now  more  in  terror  than  in  pain.  She  was  begging 
me  not  to  hurt  her.  I  probably  frightened  her  a  good 
deal  by  not  replying.  The  tinder  box  took  up  all  my 
attention  for  a  good  couple  of  minutes.  A  tinder  box 
is  not  a  thing  to  get  light  by  hurriedly.  You  try  some  day, 
to  see  how  quickly  you  can  light  a  candle  by  one.  When 


IT  BREEZES  UP  171 

I  got  the  candle  lit,  I  thought  of  the  battle-lanterns 
swinging  outside  all  the  time.  I  might  have  saved  my- 
self all  that  trouble  by  using  a  little  common  sense. 
Well.  Wait  till  you  stand  as  I  stood,  with  your  heart  in 
your  boots,  down  in  a  pit  of  death,  you'll  see  how 
much  common  sense  will  remain  in  your  fine  brains. 

When  the  flame  took  hold  of  the  wick,  so  that  I  could 
look  about  me,  I  saw  the  lady  Aurelia  lying  among  the 
smashed  up  gear  to  leeward.  She  had  been  lying  down, 
reading  in  a  sort  of  bunk  which  had  been  rigged  up  for 
her  on  the  locker-top.  The  shock  had  flung  her  clean 
out  of  the  bunk  on  to  the  deck.  At  the  same  moment 
an  avalanche  of  gear  had  fetched  to  leeward.  A  cask 
had  rolled  on  to  her  left  hand,  pinning  her  down  to  the 
deck,  while  a  box  of  bottles  had  cut  the  back  of  her 
head.  A  more  complete  picture  of  misery  you  could 
not  hope  to  see.  There  was  all  the  ill-smelling  jumble 
of  steward's  gear,  tumbled  in  a  heap  of  smash,  soaking 
in  the  oil  from  the  fallen  lamp.  There  was  a  good  deal 
of  blood  about.  Aurelia  was  lying  in  all  the  d6bris  half 
covered  with  salted  fish  from  one  of  the  capsized  casks. 
They  looked  like  huge  leaves.  She  seemed  to  have  been 
buried  under  them,  like  a  babe  in  the  wood.  She  grew 
calm  when  she  saw  me.  "  There  are  candles  under  the 
bunk,"  she  said.  "  Light  two  or  three.  Tell  me  what 
has  happened." 

I  did  not  answer  till  I  had  lighted  three  or  four  more 
candles.  "  The  ship's  on  her  beam  ends,"  I  said.  "  It's 


172  MARTIN  HYDE 

the  captain's  fault.  But  never  mind  that.  I  must  get  you 
out.  Are  you  badly  hurt,  do  you  think?  " 

"  I'm  all  right,"  she  said  with  a  gasp.  "  But  it's  being 
pinned  in  here.  I  thought  I  was  going  to  be  pinned  down 
while  I  was  being  drowned." 

"  Shut  your  eyes,  please,"  I  said.  "  Bite  your  lips. 
It'll  hurt,  I'm  afraid,  getting  this  cask  off  your  hand. 
Are  you  ready.  Now."  I  did  it  as  gently  as  I  could; 
but  it  made  me  turn  all  cold  to  think  of  the  hand  under 
all  that  weight. 

"  Can  you  withdraw  your  hand,  now?  "  I  asked,  tilt- 
ing the  cask  as  far  up  as  I  could. 

"No,"  she  said.  "Look  out.  I'll  roll  out."  In 
another  two  seconds  she  was  sitting  up  among  the 
crockery  with  her  face  deathly  white  against  the  bulk- 
head; she  had  fainted.  There  was  a  water-carafe 
on  a  bracket  up  above  my  head.  I  splashed  her  face 
with  water  from  it  till  she  rallied.  She  came  to  her- 
self with  a  little  hysterical  laugh,  at  the  very  instant 
when  something  giving  way  aloft  let  the  ship  right 
herself  again.  "  Hold  on  a  minute,"  I  said.  "  Take 
this  water.  Now  drink  a  little.  I'll  be  back  in  a  mo- 
ment." The  ship  was  rolling  drunkenly  in  the  trough 
of  the  sea;  but  I  made  a  nimble  rush  to  the  cabin,  where 
the  captain's  cruet  of  brandy  bottles  still  swung  from  a 
hook  in  the  beams.  I  ran  back  to  her  with  a  bottle  of 
brandy.  There  were  a  few  unbroken  mugs  in  the  pantry, 
so  I  gave  her  a  drink  of  brandy,  which  brought  the  colour 


IT  BREEZES  UP  173 

back  to  her  cheeks.    While  she  sat  there,  in  the  mess  of 
gear  which  slid  about  as  the  ship  rolled,  I  got  a  good 
big  jug  of  water  from  the  scuttle-butt  in  the  'tweendecks. 
I  nipped  on  deck  with  it  to  ask  the  mate  for  some  balsam, 
an  excellent  cure  for  cuts  which  most  sailors  carry  to  sea 
with  them.    There  was  mess  enough  on  deck  in  all  con- 
science.   I  found  the  foretopmast  gone  over  the  side,  in 
a  tangle  of  torn  rope  at  which  all  hands  were  furiously 
hacking.    The  mate  was  on  the  fo'c'sle  hacking  at  some 
gear  with  a  tomahawk.    I  did  not  see  the  captain. 
"  Mr.  mate/7  I  cried.    "  I  want  some  balsam,  quick." 
^JGetoutof  this,"  he  shouted.    "  Get  out  of  this.    I 
can't  attend  to  your  hurts.  Don't  come  bothering  here." 
"  It's  for  the  lady,"  I  said,  "  the  lady  down  below." 
"  In  my  chest.   Look  in  my  chest  till,"  he  said.  "  Now 
stand  clear.    I've  trouble  enough  without  ladies  in  the 
case.    Are  you  all  clear,  you,  aft  there?  " 

"  All  gone  here,  sir,"  the  men  shouted  back.  "  Shall 
we  sling  a  bowline  over  the  foot?  " 

"  No,"  he  shouted.  "  Look  out.  She's  going."  For 
just  a  second  I  saw  the  mass  of  spar  all  tangled  up  with 
sail  rise  up  on  a  wave  as  it  drifted  past.  I  found  my- 
self wondering  why  we  had  all  been  hi  the  shadow  of 
death  only  a  couple  of  minutes  before.  There  was  no 
thought  of  danger  now.  I  ran  below  for  the  balsam, 
which  I  found  without  difficulty. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  DRINK  OF  SHERBET 

I  TOOK  what  handkerchiefs  I  could  find  into  the 
pantry  with  me.  "  There's  no  danger,"  I  said.  "  The 
ship's  all  right.  How  are  you  now?  Let  me  give  you 
some  more  brandy."  I  gave  her  a  little  more  brandy; 
then  I  helped  her  on  to  the  top  of  the  locker.  Pouring 
out  some  water  into  the  basin  I  bathed  the  cut  on  her 
head.  It  was  a  clean  long  cut  which  would  probably 
have  gone  through  the  bone  had  not  her  hair  been  so 
thick.  I  dressed  it  as  well  as  I  could  with  balsam,  then 
bound  it  tightly  up  with  a  white  handkerchief.  The 
hand  was  a  good  deal  more  difficult  to  manage;  it  was 
nastily  crushed;  though  no  bones  were  broken.  The 
wrist  was  so  much  swollen  that  I  had  to  cut  open  the 
sleeve  of  her  man's  riding  jacket.  Then  I  bathed  the 
hand  with  cold  water  mixed  with  vinegar  (which  I  had 
heard  was  cooling)  till  I  felt  that  the  time  had  come  to 
bandage  it,  so  that  the  patient  might  lie  down  to  rest. 
She  had  been  much  shaken  by  her  fall.  I  don't  think  it 
ever  once  occurred  to  me  to  think  of  her  as  my  enemy.  I 
felt  too  much  pity  for  her,  being  hurt,  like  that.  "  Look 
here,"  I  said.  "  You'll  have  to  wear  that  arm  in  a  sling. 


A  DRINK  OF  SHERBET  175 

I'll  bandage  it  up  for  you  nicely."  She  bore  my  surgery 
like  the  hero  she  was;  it  didn't  look  very  wonderful 
when  it  was  done;  but  she  said  that  the  pain  was  a  good 
deal  soothed.  That  was  not  the  end  though.  I  had  to 
change  cabins  with  her,  since  I  could  not  let  a  hurt 
woman  sleep  in  that  bunk  in  the  pantry;  she  might  so* 
easily  be  flung  from  it  a  second  time.  So  I  shifted  her 
things  into  my  cabin,  where  I  made  all  tidy  for  her.  As 
for  the  precious  slush  can,  I  stowed  that  carefully  away, 
at  the  back  of  some  lumber  hi  one  of  the  pantry  lockers, 
where  it  would  not  be  found.  Altogether,  it  took  me 
about  twenty  minutes  to  make  everything  ready,  by 
which  tune  the  little  accident  on  deck  had  been  for- 
gotten, except  by  those  who  had  to  do  the  work  of  send- 
ing up  a  new  topmast;  a  job  which  kept  all  hands  busy 
all  night.  The  ship  was  making  a  steady  three  knots 
under  her  reduced  sail  when  I  helped  Aurelia  across 
to  her  new  room.  There  was  no  more  thought  of  danger. 

As  I  paused  at  the  cabin  door,  to  ask  it  there  was  any- 
thing more  which  I  could  do  for  her,  the  lady  turned  to 
me. 

"  What  is  your  name?  "  she  asked.  I  am  ashamed 
to  say  that  I  hesitated,  being  half  inclined  to  'give  her  a 
false  name;  for  my  time  of  secret  service  had  given  me 
a  thorough  distrust  of  pretty  nearly  everybody.  She 
noticed  my  hesitation.  "  As  a  friend  to  another  friend," 
she  added.  "  Life  isn't  all  the  King's  service." 

"  My  name  is  Martin  Hyde,"  I  said. 


176  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Mine  is  Aurelia,"  she  replied,  "  Aurelia  Carew. 
Will  you  remember  that?  "  I  told  her  that  I  should 
certainly  remember  that.  "  We  seem  to  have  met  be- 
fore," she  said,  "  more  than  once." 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  smiling.  She,  too,  smiled,  but  she 
quickly  became  grave  again. 

"  Mr.  Martin  Hyde,"  she  said,  with  a  little  catch 
in  her  voice,  "  we  two  are  in  opposite  camps.  But  I 
don't  know.  After  this,  it's  difficult.  I  warn  you." 
Here  she  stopped,  quite  unable  to  go  on.  "  I  can't," 
she  continued,  more  to  herself  than  to  me,  "  I  can't. 
They  oughtn't  to  have  put  this  on  me.  They  oughtn't. 
They  oughtn'  t. ' '  She  laid  her  unhurt  hand  on  my  shoulder 
for  a  moment.  "  Let  me  warn  you,"  she  said  earnestly, 
"that  you're  in  danger." 

"  In  danger  from  you?  "  I  asked. 

"  Don't  ask  me  more,"  she  said,  "  I  hate  myself 
for  telling  you  even  that.  Oh,  it's  terrible  to  have 
to  do  it.  Go  now.  Don't  ask  me  more.  But  I  had  to 
warn  you.  But  I  can't  do  it  myself."  I  did  not  know 
what  to  make  of  this;  but  I  gathered  that  her  task 
(whatever  it  was)  from  which  she  had  shrunk  so  bitterly 
in  the  Dutch  town  only  the  night  before,  was  now  to  be 
deputed  to  another,  probably  to  the  captain,  perhaps  to 
the  Dartmouth  justices.  I  did  not  like  the  thought;  but 
I  thanked  her  for  warning  me,  it  was  generous  of  her  to 
warn  me.  I  took  out  the  dagger  with  which  she  had 
tried  to  stab  me.  "  You  said  we  were  in  opposite  camps, 


A  DRINK  OF  SHERBET  177 

Miss  Carew,"  I  said.  "  But  I  wouldn't  like  to  keep  this. 
I  mean  I  wouldn't  like  to  think  that  we  were  enemies, 
really."  I  daresay  I  said  other  foolish  things  as  well, 
at  the  same  time. 

"  Yes,  keep  it,"  she  said.  "  I  couldn't  bear  to  have 
it  again.  But  be  warned.  Don't  trust  me.  While  we're 
in  opposite  camps  you  be  warned.  For  I'm  your  enemy, 
then,  when  you  least  expect  it." 

Nothing  much  happened  the  next  day  until  the  eve- 
ning, by  which  time  we  were  off  the  Isle  of  Wight.  With 
the  aid  of  the  mate,  I  doctored  Aurelia's  hand  again; 
that  was  the  only  memorable  event  of  the  day.  In  the 
evening,  the  captain  (who  had  been  moody  from  his 
drunkenness  of  the  night  before)  asked  me  to  sing  to 
him  in  the  great  cabin.  I  was  surprised  at  the  request; 
but  I  knew  a  few  ballads,  so  I  sang  them  to  him.  While 
I  was  singing,  Aurelia  entered  the  cabin;  she  sat  down 
on  one  of  the  lockers  below  the  great  window.  She 
looked  very  white,  in  the  gloom  there.  She  did  not  speak 
to  me;  but  sat  there  restlessly,  coughing  in  a  dry  hack- 
ing way,  as  though  one  of  her  ribs  had  been  broken  in 
the  fall.  I  lowered  my  voice  when  I  noticed  this,  as  I  was 
afraid  that  my  singing  might  annoy  her;  I  thought  that 
she  was  suffering  from  her  wound.  The  captain  told  me 
to  pipe  up;  as  he  couldn't  hear  what  my  words  were. 
I  asked  Aurelia  if  my  singing  worried  her;  but  instead 
of  answering  she  left  the  cabin  for  a  few  minutes.  When 
she  came  back,  she  sat  with  her  face  in  her  hand,  seem- 


178  MARTIN  HYDE 

ingly  in  great  pain.  I  sang  all  the  ballads  known  to  me. 
When  I  had  finished,  the  captain  grunted  a  note  of  ap- 
proval. "  Well/'  he  said,  "  so  them's  your  ballads. 
That's  your  treat.  Now  you  shall  have  mine."  A  little 
gong  hung  in  the  cabin.  He  banged  upon  it  to  summon 
his  boy,  who  came  in  trembling,  as  he  always  did,  ex- 
pecting to  be  beaten  before  he  went  out.  "  Bring  in  a 
jug  of  cool  water,"  he  said.  "  Then  fetch  them  limes 
I  bought."  As  the  boy  went  out,  the  captain  turned  to 
me  with  a  grin.  "  Did  you  ever  drink  Turk's  sherbet?  " 
he  said. 

"  No,"  I  answered.  "  I've  never  even  heard  of  it. 
What  is  it?  " 

"  Why,"  he  said,  "  it's  a  drink  the  heathen  Turks 
make  out  of  citron.  A  powder  which  fizzes.  I  got 
some  of  it  last  autumn  when  I  made  a  voyage  to 
Scanderoon.  It's  been  too  cold  ever  since  to  want 
to  drink  any,  as  it's  a  summer  drink  mostly.  Now 
you  shall  have  some."  He  took  down  some  tum- 
blers from  the  rack  in  which  they  stood.  "  Here's 
glasses,"  he  said.  "  Now  the  sherbet  is  in  this  bottle 
here."  He  produced  a  pint  glass  bottle  from  one  of  the 
lockers.  It  was  stopped  with  a  wooden  plug,  carved  in 
the  likeness  of  a  Turk's  head.  It  was  about  three  parts 
full  of  a  whitish  powder.  A  label  on  the  side  of  the  bottle 
gave  directions  for  its  preparation. 

When  the  boy  returned  with  his  tray,  the  captain 
squeezed  the  juice  of  half  a  lime  into  each  of  the  three 


A  DRINK  OF  SHERBET  179 

tumblers.  "  That's  the  first  thing,"  he  said.  "  Lime 
juice.  Now  the  water."  He  poured  water  into  each 
glass,  till  they  were  nearly  full.  "  White  of  egg  is  said  to 
make  it  better,"  he  said  to  me.  "  But  at  sea  I  guess  we 
must  do  without  that.  Now  then.  You're  the  singer, 
so  you  drink  first.  Be  ready  to  drink  it  while  it  fizzes; 
for  then  it's  at  its  best.  Are  you  ready?  "  I  was  quite 
ready,  so  the  captain  filled  his  spoon  with  the  soft  white 
powder.  Glancing  round  at  Aurelia  I  saw  that  she  had 
covered  her  eyes  with  her  hand.  "  Won't  Miss  Carew 
drink  first?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  don't  want  any,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  Be- 
fore I  could  speak  another  word  the  captain  had  poured 
his  heaped  spoonful  of  powder  into  my  glass.  "  Stir 
it  up,  boy,"  he  cried.  "  Down  with  it  while  it  fizzes." 
Aurelia  rose  to  her  feet,  catching  her  breath  sharply. 

I  remember  a  pleasant  taste,  as  though  all  of  the  fruits 
of  the  world  had  been  crushed  together  into  a  syrup; 
then  a  mist  surged  all  about  me,  the  cabin  became 
darker,  the  captain  seemed  to  grow  vast,  till  his  body 
filled  the  room.  My  legs  melted  from  me.  I  was  one 
little  wavering  flame  blowing  about  on  great  waves. 
Something  was  hard  upon  my  head.  The  captain's 
hand  (I  could  feel)  was  lifting  my  eyelid.  I  heard  him 
say  "  That's  got  him."  Instantly  a  choir  of  voices  began 
to  chant  "  That's  got  him,"  in  roaring,  tumultuous 
bursts  of  music.  Then  the  music  became  as  it  were, 
present,  but  inaudible;  there  were  waves  of  sound  all 


180  MARTIN  HYDE 

round  me,  but  my  ears  were  deafened  to  them.  I  had 
been  put  out  of  action  by  some  very  powerful  drug. 
I  remember  no  more  of  that  evening's  entertainment.  I 
was  utterly  unconscious. 

I  came  to,  very  sick,  some  time  in  the  night.  I  was  in 
the  bunk  in  the  pantry ;  but  far  too  helpless  in  my  misery 
to  rise,  or  to  take  an  account  of  time.  I  lay  half-con- 
scious till  the  morning,  when  I  fell  into  a  deep  sleep, 
which  lasted,  I  may  say,  till  the  evening ;  for  I  did  not  feel 
sufficiently  awake  to  get  up  until  about  half-past  five. 
When  I  did  get  up,  I  felt  so  tottery  that  I  could  hardly 
keep  my  feet.  Someone,  I  supposed  that  it  was  Aurelia, 
had  placed  a  metal  brandy  flask,  with  a  paper  roll  con- 
taining hard-boiled  eggs,  on  my  wash-hand  stand.  I  took 
a  gulp  of  the  brandy.  In  the  midst  of  my  sickness  I  re- 
member the  shame  of  it;  the  shame  of  being  drugged  by 
those  two ;  for  I  knew  that  I  had  been  drugged ;  the  shame 
of  having  given  up  like  that,  at  the  moment  when  I  had 
the  cards  in  my  hand;  all  the  cards.  I  was  locked  into 
the  pantry;  all  my  clothes  were  gone.  I  found  myself^ 
dressed  in  a  sailor's  serge-shirt.  All  my  other  property 
had  vanished.  I  remember  crying  as  I  shook  at  the  door 
to  open  it;  it  was  too  strong  for  me,  in  my  weak  state. 
As  I  wrestled  with  the  door,  I  heard  the  dry  rattling 
out  of  the  cable.  We  had  come  to  anchor;  we  were  in 
Dartmouth ;  perhaps  in  a  few  minutes  I  should  be  going 
ashore.  Looking  through  the  port-hole,  I  saw  a  great 
steep  hill  rising  up  from  the  water,  with  houses  clinging 


A  DRINK  OF  SHERBET  181 

to  its  side,  like  barnacles  on  the  side  of  a  rock.  I  could 
see  people  walking  on  the  wharf.  I  could  see  a  banner 
blowing  out  from  a  flagstaff. 

A  few  more  gulps  of  brandy  brought  me  to  myself. 
I  was  safe  anyhow;  my  cartridges  had  not  been  found. 
I  dropped  them  one  by  one  into  the  metal-flask.  What- 
ever happened,  no  one  would  look  for  them  there.  Then 
I  banged  at  the  door  again,  trying  to  make  people  hear. 
Nobody  paid  any  attention  to  me;  I  might  have  spared 
myself  the  trouble.  Long  afterwards,  I  learned  that  I 
was  detained  while  Captain  Barlow  spoke  to  a  magistrate 
about  me,  asking  if  I  might  be  "  questioned,"  that  is, 
put  to  the  thumbscrews,  till  it  could  be  learned  whether 
I  carried  a  verbal  message  to  my  uncle,  Mr.  Blick.  The 
magistrate  to  whom  he  first  applied  was  one  of  the  Mon- 
mouth  faction  as  it  happened,  so  my  thumbs  escaped; 
but  I  had  a  narrow  escape  later,  as  you  shall  hear. 
About  an  hour  after  the  ship  came  to  anchor,  the  cabin- 
door  was  opened  by  a  sailor,  who  flung  in  an  armful  of 
clothes  to  me,  without  speaking  a  word.  They  were 
mostly  not  my  own  clothes;  the  boots  were  not  mine;  my 
own  boots,  I  guessed,  had  been  cut  to  pieces  in  the  letter- 
hunt.  All  the  clothes  which  were  mine  had  had  the 
seams  ripped  up.  All  my  cartridges  had  been  taken. 
About  half  of  my  money  was  gone.  The  only  things 
untouched  were  the  weapons  in  the  belt.  I  laughed  to 
myself  to  think  how  little  reward  they  had  had  for  all 
their  baseness.  They  had  stooped  to  the  methods  of  the 


182  MARTIN  HYDE 

lowest  kind  of  thieves,  yet  they  had  failed.  They  had 
not  found  my  letters.  My  joy  was  not  very  real;  I 
was  too  wretched  for  that.  Looking  back  at  it  all  long 
after,  I  think  that  the  hardest  thing  to  bear  was  Aure- 
lia's  share  in  the  work.  I  had  not  thought  that  Aurelia 
would  join  in  tricking  me  in  that  way.  But  while  I 
thought  bitterly  of  her  deceit,  I  thought  of  her  tears 
on  the  balcony  ha  the  Dutch  city.  After  all,  she  had 
been  driven  into  it  by  that  big  bully  of  a  man.  I  forgave 
her  when  I  thought  of  him;  he  was  the  cause  of  it  all. 
A  brute  he  must  have  been  to  force  her  into  such  an 
action. 

Presently  the  mate  came  down  with  orders  to  me  to 
leave  the  ship  at  once.  I  asked  him  for  my  own  clothes; 
but  he  told  me  sharply  to  be  thankful  for  what  I  had, 
since  I'd  done  no  work  to  earn  them;  by  work  he 
meant  the  brainless  manual  work  done  by  people  like 
himself.  So  going  on  deck  I  called  a  boatman,  who  for 
twopence  put  me  ashore  on  the  Kingswear  side  of  the 
river.  He  gave  me  full  directions  for  finding  Mr.  Blick's 
house,  telling  me  that  in  another  five  minutes  I  should 
come  to  it,  if  I  followed  my  nose.  As  I  started  from  the 
landing  place  I  looked  back  at  the  barquentine,  where 
I  had  had  so  many  adventures.  She  was  lying  at  anchor 
at  a  little  distance  from  the  Dartmouth  landing  place, 
making  a  fair  show,  under  her  flag,  in  spite  of  her  jury 
foretopmast.  As  I  looked,  the  boatman  jogged  my 
elbow,  pointing  across  the  river  to  the  strip  of  road 


A   YOUNG    LADY  WAVING   TO    YOU,"    HE    SAID. 


Page  183 


A  DRINK  OF  SHERBET  183 

which  edges  the  stream.  "  A  young  lady  waving  to  you/' 
he  said.  Sure  enough  a  lady  was  waving  to  me.  I  sup- 
posed that  it  was  Aurelia,  asking  pardon,  trying  to 
show  me  that  we  parted  friends.  I  would  not  wave 
at  first;  I  was  surly;  but  after  about  a  minute  I  waved 
my  hat  to  her.  Then  I  set  off  up  the  road  to  Mr.  Blick's. 
Ten  minutes  later,  I  was  in  Mr.  Blick's  house,  telling 
him  all  that  I  have  now  told  you. 

Mr.  Blick  kept  me  in  his  house  for  a  day  or  two  less 
than  four  weeks,  when  business  took  him  to  Exeter.  I 
went  with  him ;  for  he  gave  out  that  he  was  taking  me  to 
school  there,  as  his  dead  sister  had  wished.  His  real 
reason  was  to  pass  the  word  through  the  country  that 
King  Monmouth  was  coming.  He  was  one  of  the  few 
men  in  full  knowledge  of  the  Duke's  plans;  but  as  we 
went  about  from  town  to  town,  spreading  the  word 
among  the  faithful,  I  saw  that  the  Duke  was  expected 
by  vast  numbers  of  the  country  folk.  Our  clients  were 
not  much  among  the  gentry ;  they  hung  by  themselves, 
as,  in  this  country,  they  always  will,  in  times  of  popular 
stir.  But  among  the  poorer  people,  such  as  small  farmers, 
or  common  labouring  men,  we  were  looked  for  as  men 
sent  from  on  high.  At  more  than  one  little  quiet  vil- 
lage, when  we  went  into  the  inn-parlour,  we  saw  the  men 
looking  at  us,  half  frightened,  half  expectant,  as  though 
we,  being  strangers,  must  needs  have  news  of  the 
King  for  whom  they  longed.  Often  some  publican  or 
maltster  would  tell  us  that  Gyle  (their  name  for  the 


184  MARTIN  HYDE 

unfortunate  Argyle,  then  a  defeated  man  in  Scotland,  if 
not  already  put  to  death  for  his  rebellion)  was  taken, 
looking  at  us  carefully  as  he  spoke,  for  fear  lest  we  should 
be  of  the  wrong  side.  Then,  if  we  seemed  sympathetic, 
he  would  tell  us  how  perhaps  another  would  have  better 
luck  elsewhere.  After  that,  we  would  tell  our  news. 
It  was  dangerous  work,  though,  carrying  that  message 
across  the  country.  In  many  of  the  towns  we  found 
guards  of  the  Devon  red  regiment  of  militia.  I  am  quite 
sure  that  if  Mr.  Blick  had  not  had  me  by  his  side,  as  an 
excellent  excuse  for  travelling  to  Exeter,  he  would  have 
been  lodged  in  gaol  as  a  suspicious  character.  The  sol- 
diers had  arrested  many  travellers  already;  the  gaols 
were  full.  King  James's  great  man  in  those  parts,  the 
Earl  of  Albemarle,  knew  very  well  that  something  was 
in  the  air;  but  as  he  was  a  great  lord  the  hearts  of  the 
poor  were  hidden  from  him.  He  had  no  guess  of  what 
was  planning.  In  a  way,  the  Duke's  affairs  were  very 
well  planned.  The  eastern  end  of  Devon,  all  Somerset, 
with  the  western  end  of  Dorset,  were  all  ripe  to  rise, 
directly  he  appeared.  They  knew  that  he  was  coming; 
they  were  prepared  to  join  him;  they  knew  at  about 
what  time  he  would  come,  at  about  a  fortnight  from  hay- 
harvest.  Already,  quite  unknown  to  the  authorities, 
we  had  men  picked  out  to  carry  the  news  of  the  landing 
to  different  parts  of  the  country.  So  far,  I  think,  the 
Duke's  affairs  were  well  planned.  But  though  we  had 
all  this  enthusiasm  in  three  counties,  besides  promises 


A  DRINK  OF  SHERBET  185 

of  similar  risings  in  London,  we  were  in  no  real  case 
to  take  the  field.  Our  adherents,  however  numerous, 
however  brave,  were  only  a  mob,  when  all  is  said;  they 
were  not  an  army.  The  Duke  thought  that  the  regular 
army,  or  at  least  some  regiments  of  it,  would  desert  to 
him,  as  happened  some  years  later,  when  the  great  Prince 
William  did  what  my  master  attempted.  But  my  master 
forgot  that  he  had  neither  the  arms  nor  the  officers  to 
make  his  faction  a  likely  body  for  regular  troops  to 
join. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE   ROAD   TO  LYMB 

WE  spread  the  tidings  as  far  as  Exeter,  where  Mr. 
Blick  made  some  pretence  of  handing  me  over  to  a  school- 
master, one  Hubble,  a  red-faced,  cheery  clergyman, 
one  of  the  most  ardent  rebels  on  our  side.  Indeed,  the 
clergymen  everywhere  supported  us,  as  defenders  of  the 
Protestant  faith,  which  that  dastard  James  would  have 
destroyed.  Mr.  Hubble  made  some  excuse  for  not  taking 
me  in  at  the  instant;  but  gave  us  letters  of  introduction 
to  people  in  towns  further  on,  so  that  we  could  pass  the 
militia  without  difficulty,  to  give  the  news  in  western 
Dorset.  So  after  waiting  for  a  little  while  in  Exeter, 
gathering  all  the  news  we  could  of  the  whereabouts  of  the 
troops  of  militia,  we  pushed  on  eastward,  by  way  of 
Sidmouth,  to  the  big  town  of  Dorchester.  As  we  came 
east,  we  found  the  militia  very  much  more  suspicious 
than  they  had  been  on  the  western  side  of  Exeter.  At 
every  little  town  we  found  a  strong  guard  so  placed 
that  no  one  could  enter  without  passing  under  the  cap- 
tain's eye.  We  were  brought  before  militia  captains 
some  two  or  three  times  a  day.  Sometimes  we  were 
searched;  sometimes,  if  the  captain  happened  to  be 


WE    WERE    QUITE   AS   MUCH  SCARED  TO  SEE   HIM  AS  THE  LANDLORD 

HAD  BEEN.  Page  187 


THE  ROAD  TO  LYME  187 

drunk,  we  were  bullied  with  threats  of  the  gaol.  Mr. 
Blick  in  these  cases  always  insisted  on  being  brought  be- 
fore the  magistrate,  to  whom  he  would  tell  a  fine  indig- 
nant tale,  saying  what  a  shame  it  was  that  he  could  not 
take  his  orphan  nephew  peaceably  to  school,  without 
being  suspected  of  complicity  in  a  rebellion.  He  would 
then  show  Mr.  Bubble's  letters,  or  some  other  papers 
signed  by  the  Dartmouth  magistrates.  These  always 
cleared  our  characters,  so  that  we  were  allowed  to  pro- 
ceed; but  I  did  not  like  the  way  hi  which  our  descrip- 
tions were  taken.  Once  on  our  journey,  shortly  after 
we  had  left  Sidmouth,  where  the  soldiers  had  been  very 
suspicious,  we  turned  out  of  the  highway  to  leave  word 
at  a  town  called  Seaton.  We  spread  the  watchword 
at  several  villages  near  the  sea,  before  we  came  to 
Seaton,  so  that  we  were  rather  late  in  arriving.  Think- 
ing no  wrong,  we  put  up  at  one  of  the  inns  in  Seaton, 
intending  to  pass  the  night  there.  We  were  at  supper 
in  our  inn,  when  some  yeomanry  rode  up  to  the  door, 
to  ask  the  landlord  if  an  elderly  man  had  passed  that 
way  with  a  boy.  The  landlord,  who  was  a  good  deal 
scared  by  the  soldiers,  showed  the  captain  in  to  us  at 
once.  We  were  quite  as  much  scared  to  see  him  as 
the  landlord  had  been.  The  captain  of  the  soldiers  was 
the  very  man  who  had  given  us  such  a  searching  exam- 
ination in  Sidmouth  that  morning. 

"  Well,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Blick,  "  I  thought  you  were 
going  to  Dorchester.    What  brings  you  here?  " 


188  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Blick,  "  we've  been  so  much  inter- 
rupted by  soldiers  that  we  hoped  to  travel  away  from 
the  main-roads. " 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  captain,  "  I've  had  you  watched. 
Since  you  left  Sidmouth,  you've  been  into  every  inn 
upon  the  road,  listening  to  a  lot  of  seditious  talk  about 
Argyle.  That's  not  my  point,  though.  You  gave  out  to 
me  that  you  were  going  to  Dorchester.  Instead  of  that 
you  slink  off  the  Dorchester  road  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. You  will  have  to  explain  yourself  to  my 
superiors.  You're  under  arrest." 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Blick,  "  I  am  sorry  that  you  should 
think  ill  of  me.  We  will  gladly  come  with  you  to  answer 
for  our  conduct  to  the  authorities.  But  while  the  horses 
are  being  saddled,  perhaps  you  will  join  us  at  supper. 
Landlord,  bring  a  couple  of  bottles  more.  The  captain 
sups  with  us." 

But  though  the  captain  drank  his  couple  of  bottles  of 
port,  he  did  not  become  any  gentler  with  us.  As  soon 
as  supper  was  over  we  had  to  ride  on  again,  with  the 
troopers  all  round  us. 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Blick,  "  may  I  ask  you  where  we  are 
going  with  you?  " 

"  Ajoninster,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Well.    That's  on  my  way,"  said  Mr.  Blick. 

"  It'll  probably  end  your  way,  for  some  time,"  said 
the  captain. 

"  I'm  perfectly  willing  to  abide  by  the  decision  of  the 


THE  ROAD  TO  LYME  189 

authorities,"  Mr.  Blick  answered  calmly.  "  But  what  is 
the  meaning  of  all  these  soldiers  everywhere?  I've  asked 
people;  but  nobody  seems  able  to  give  a  straight  an- 


swer." 


"  I  think  you  know  what  the  soldiers  mean  well 
enough,"  answered  the  captain.  "  If  you  hadn't  known 
you  wouldn't  have  turned  out  of  the  highway." 

At  about  midnight  we  reached  Axminster.  We  were 
taken  before  a  couple  of  officers  who  sat  at  work  by 
candlelight  over  a  mass  of  papers,  in  an  upper  chamber 
of  an  inn.  They  had  a  wild  air  of  having  been  without 
sleep  for  some  time.  Their  muddy  riding  boots  were 
drying  hi  front  of  the  fire.  They  had  a  map  of  the  coun- 
tryside before  them,  all  stuck  about  with  little  flags, 
some  red,  some  yellow,  to  show  where  the  different 
troops  of  militia  were  stationed.  After  saluting  these 
officers,  the  captain  made  his  report  about  us,  saying 
that  we  were  suspicious  persons,  who  had  started  from 
Sidmouth,  towards  Dorchester.  He  had  waited  to 
receive  word  from  the  troops  stationed  along  the  high- 
way of  our  arrival  at  various  points  upon  the  road; 
but,  failing  to  hear  about  us,  he  had  searched  for  us, 
with  the  result  that  he  had  found  us  at  Seaton,  some 
miles  out  of  our  way.  The  officers  questioned  us  closely 
about  our  plans,  making  notes  of  what  we  said.  They 
kept  referring  to  a  book  of  letters,  as  though  to  verify 
what  we  said.  Mr.  Blick's  answers  made  them  take  a 
favourable  view  of  us;  but  they  told  him  in  a  friendly 


190  MARTIN  HYDE 

way  that  the  officer  had  done  right  to  arrest  us.  They 
complimented  the  captain  on  his  zeal.  Meanwhile,  they 
said,  since  we  were  going  to  Dorchester,  we  could  not 
object  to  going  with  a  military  escort.  A  troop  of  cavalry 
was  to  start  in  a  couple  of  hours;  we  could  go  with  that. 
We  were  in  Dorchester  for  a  few  days,  always  under 
the  eye  of  the  soldiers.  It  was  a  bustling,  suspicious 
time  full  of  false  alarms.  Mr.  Blick  told  me  that  the 
message  "  King  Golden  Cap.  After  six  one,"  meant 
that  the  Duke  was  to  be  expected  off  Golden  Cap,  a 
cliff  a  few  miles  from  Lyme  Regis,  any  day  after  the  first 
of  the  sixth  month.  He  was  on  tenterhooks  to  be  in 
Lyme  to  greet  him  on  his  arrival ;  but  this  he  could  not 
hope  to  do.  We  were  watched  too  carefully  to  be  able 
to  get  away  to  a  place  upon  the  sea-coast.  We  had  to 
be  very  careful  how  we  sent  our  secret  message  abroad 
into  the  country.  I  have  never  known  a  time  so  full 
of  alarms.  People  would  ride  in  to  the  town  at  night 
with  word  that  Monmouth  was  landed,  or  that  there  was 
fighting  all  along  the  coast,  or  that  King  James  was 
dead.  The  drums  would  beat;  the  cavalry  would  come 
out  clattering.  People  would  be  crying  out.  The  loyal 
would  come  to  their  doorsteps  ready  to  fly  further  in- 
land. Every  night,  if  one  lay  'awake,  one  could  hear  the 
noise  of  spades  in  back  gardens  where  misers  were  bury- 
ing their  money.  Then,  every  day,  one  would  see  the 
troopers  coming  in,  generally  two  at  a  time,  with  a 
suspected  man  led  by  a  cord  knotted  to  his  two  thumbs. 


THE  ROAD  TO  LYME  191 

Dorchester  gaol  was  full  of  suspected  people,  who  were 
kept  in  prison  indefinitely,  without  trial,  in  very  great 
discomfort.  King  James  was  afraid,  he  did  not  really 
know  of  what,  so  he  took  measures  not  so  much  to  pre- 
vent trouble  as  to  avenge  his  own  fear.  Mr.  Blick  used 
to  send  me  to  the  prison  every  morning  with  loaves  of 
fresh  bread  for  the  prisoners. 

At  last,  after  midnight,  in  the  night  of  the  llth  of 
June,  a  memorable  day  for  the  West,  riders  came  in 
with  news  which  destroyed  the  night's  rest  of  the  town. 
Monmouth  had  landed  at  Lyme  the  evening  before,  after 
sailing  about  in  sight  of  the  town  all  day.  That  was 
news  indeed.  It  made  a  strange  uproar  in  the  streets. 
The  trumpets  blew  from  every  inn-door  to  summons  the 
billeted  soldiers.  Officers  ran  about  bawling  for  their 
sergeants;  the  sergeants  hurried  about  with  lanterns, 
rousing  the  men  from  where  they  slept.  All  the  streets 
were  full  of  cavalry  men  trying  to  form  in  the  crowd. 
At  last,  when  they  were  formed,  a  trumpet  sounded, 
making  everyone  keep  silence.  Then  in  the  stillness 
an  officer  shouted  out  an  order,  which  no  one,  save  a 
soldier,  could  understand.  Instantly  the  kettle-drums 
began  to  pound;  the  swords  jingled;  the  horses  whin- 
nied, tossing  up  their  heads.  The  soldiers  trotted  off 
smartly  towards  Bridport,  leaving  the  town  strangely 
quiet,  strangely  scared,  to  discuss  the  great  news  from 
Lyme. 

I  was  watching  the  crowd  at  my  bed-room  window 


192  MARTIN  HYDE 

when  the  horsemen  trotted  off.  While  I  stood  looking 
at  them,  Mr.  Blick  ran  upstairs,  bidding  me  to  come  down 
at  once,  as  now  there  was  a  chance  to  get  to  Lyme. 
"  Come  quick,"  he  said.  "  The  troops  are  gone.  We 
must  follow  on  their  tracks.  It'll  be  too  late  later  in  the 
morning."  In  less  than  twenty  minutes  we  were  trotting 
after  the  soldiers  at  a  good  pace,  passing  some  scores 
of  men  on  foot  who  were  hurrying,  as  they  said,  to  see 
the  battle.  Mr.  Blick  wore  a  sword  which  clattered  as  he 
rode.  The  people  hearing  the  noise  thought  that  he  was 
an  officer,  perhaps  a  colonel,  riding  with  his  servant. 
Many  of  the  men  asked  him  where  the  battle  was  to  be, 
whether  it  would  begin  before  daylight,  whether  Mon- 
mouth  was  come  with  the  French,  all  sorts  of  questions, 
to  which  we  answered  at  random.  In  the  light  summer 
night  we  had  a  fair  view  of  things.  When  we  dis- 
mounted to  lead  our  horses  up  or  down  the  steep  hills 
of  that  road,  the  straggling  sight-seers  came  all  round 
us  as  we  walked,  to  hear  what  we  had  to  tell.  We  could 
see  their  faces  all  about  us,  strange  in  the  dusk,  like 
ghosts,  not  like  real  men.  At  the  top  of  one  hill,  Mr. 
Blick  warned  them  to  look  out  for  themselves.  He  told 
them  that  before  morning  th3  highway  would  be  pa- 
trolled by  troops  who  would  take  them  in  charge  as 
suspicious  characters  trying  to  join  Monmouth,  which 
actually  happened  the  next  day  when  the  militia  offi- 
cers realized  that  war  had  begun.  His  words  scared 
off  a  number  of  them;  but  many  kept  on  as  they  were 


THE  ROAD  TO  LYME  193 

going,  to  see  the  great  battle,  which,  they  said,  would 
begin  as  soon  as  it  was  light. 

When  the  sun  began  to  peep,  we  turned  off  the  high- 
way in  order  to  avoid  Bridport,  which  we  passed  a  little 
after  dawn.  A  few  miles  further  on  we  felt  that  we 
could  turn  into  the  road  again  as  we  were  safe  from  the 
militia  at  that  distance.  Then,  feeling  happy  at  the 
thought  of  the  coming  contest,  which,  we  felt  sure, 
would  be  won  by  our  side,  we  pressed  our  tired  nags  over 
the  brook  towards  the  steep  hill  which  separates  Char- 
mouth  from  Lyme. 

It  was  early  morning,  about  five  o'clock,  when  we 
came  to  Charmouth;  but  the  little  town  was  as  busy 
as  though  it  were  noon  on  fair-day.  The  street  was 
crowded.  People  were  coming  in  from  all  the  country- 
side. A  man  was  haranguing  the  crowd  from  a  horseless 
waggon  drawn  up  at  an  inn.  The  horses  had  no  doubt 
been  pressed  into  Monmouth's  service  some  hours  before. 
I  should  think  that  there  must  have  been  three  hundred 
people  listening  to  the  orator.  Men,  already  half  drunk, 
with  green  boughs  in  their  hats,  were  marching  about 
the  town  in  uneven  companies,  armed  with  clubs  torn 
from  the  hedges.  Weeping  women  followed  them,  try- 
ing to  persuade  their  sons  or  husbands  to  come  home. 
Other  men  were  bringing  out  horses  from  private  stables. 
People  were  singing.  One  man,  leaning  out  of  a  window, 
kept  on  firing  his  pistol  as  fast  as  he  could  load.  Waving 
men  cheered  from  the  hill  above.  The  men  in  the  town 


194  MARTIN  HYDE 

cheered  back.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  noisy  joking 
everywhere.  They  cheered  us  as  we  rode  through  them, 
telling  us  that  Monmouth  had  arms  for  all.  One  poor 
woman  begged  Mr.  Blick  to  tell  her  man  to  come  home, 
as  without  him  the  children  would  all  starve.  The 
crowd  groaned  at  her;  but  Mr.  Blick  stopped  them, 
calling  the  husband,  who  was  in  a  sad  state  of  drunken 
vainglory,  to  leave  the  ranks  in  which  he  tried  to  march. 
"  We  don't  want  fathers  of  families,"  he  cried.  "  We 
want  these  tight  young  bachelors.  They're  the  boys." 
Indeed,  the  tight  young  bachelors  felt  that  this  was  the 
case,  so  the  woman  got  her  man  again;  lucky  she  was 
to  get  him.  As  far  as  I  could  judge,  the  crowd  imagined 
us  to  be  great  officers;  at  any  rate  our  coming  drew 
away  the  listeners  from  the  waggon.  They  came  flocking 
to  our  heels  as  though  we  were  the  Duke  himself.  A 
drummer  beat  up  a  quickstep;  the  crowd  surged  forward. 
We  marched  across  the  fields  to  Lyme,  five  hundred 
strong.  One  of  the  men,  plucking  a  sprig  of  hawthorn 
from  the  hedge,  asked  me  to  wear  it  in  my  hat  as  the 
Duke's  badge,  which  I  did.  He  called  me  "  Captain." 
"  Captain,"  he  said.  "  We  had  a  brush  with  them  al- 

o* 

ready,  this  morning,  along  the  road  here.  Two  on  'em* 
were  killed.  They  didn't  stay  for  no  more."  So  fighting 
had  begun  then,  the  civil  war  had  taken  its  first  fruits  of 
life.  There  could  be  no  more  shillyshallying;  we 
had  put  our  hands  to  a  big  business.  In  spite  of  the 
noise  of  the  march,  my  spirits  were  rather  dashed  by 


THE  ROAD  TO  LYME  195 

the  thought  of  those  two  men,  lying  dead  somewhere  on 
the  road  behind  us,  killed  by  their  own  countrymen. 

We  are  said  to  be  a  sober  people;  but  none  of  those 
who  saw  Lyme  that  morning  would  have  had  much 
opinion  of  our  sobriety.  Charmouth  had  been  dis- 
orderly; Lyme  was  uproarious.  Outside  the  town,  in 
one  of  the  fields  above  the  church,  we  were  stopped  by 
a  guard  of  men  who  all  wore  white  scarves  on  their  arms, 
as  well  as  green  sprays  in  their  hats.  They  stopped  us, 
apparently,  because  their  captain  wished  to  exercise 
them  in  military  customs.  They  were  evidently  raw 
to  the  use  of  arms.  They  handled  their  muskets  like 
spades.  "  Be  you  for  Monmouth,  masters?  "  they  asked 
us,  grinning.  When  we  said  that  we  were,  this  very 
unmilitary  guard  told  us  to  pass  on.  "  Her've  got  arms 
for  all,"  they  said.  "  The  word  be  '  Fear  nothing  but 
God.' '  Some  of  them  joked  with  friends  among  our 
party.  They  waved  their  muskets  to  us. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   LANDING 

INSIDE  the  town,  there  was  great  confusion.  Riotous 
men  were  foraging,  that  is,  plundering  from  private 
houses,  pretending  that  they  did  so  at  the  Duke's  orders. 
The  streets  were  full  of  people,  nearly  all  of  them  men, 
the  green  boughs  in  their  hats.  On  the  beach  two  long 
lines  of  men  with  green  scarves  on  their  arms  were  being 
drilled  by  an  officer.  Horses  were  picketed  in  a  long  line 
up  the  main  street;  they  were  mostly  very  poor  cart- 
stock,  ill-provided,  as  I  learned  afterwards,  with  harness. 
Men  were  bringing  hay  to  them  from  whatever  haystack 
was  nearest.  From  time  to  time,  there  came  a  loud 
booming  of  guns,  above  the  ringing  of  the  church  bells. 
Three  ships  in  the  bay,  one  of  them  La  Reina,  were 
firing  salutes  as  they  hoisted  their  colours.  It  was  all 
like  a  very  noisy  fair  or  coronation  day.  It  had  little 
appearance  of  an  armed  invasion.  We  found  the  Duke 
busy  with  Mr.  Jermyn  enlisting  men  in  a  field  above  the 
town. 

"  That's  not  Mr.  Jermyn.  That's  Lord  Grey,"  Mr. 
Blick  said,  on  hearing  me  exclaim.  "  Mr.  Jermyn 's 
only  the  name  he  goes  by.  He's  my  Lord  now,  you 
must  remember." 


THE  LANDING  197 

Just  then  the  Duke  caught  sight  of  us  riding  up. 
He  took  us  for  local  gentry,  coming  in  to  volunteer. 
He  came  smiling  to  welcome  us.  It  must  have  been 
a  shrewd  disappointment  to  him  to  find  that  we  were 
not  what  he  thought.  All  his  hopes  were  in  the  gen- 
try, poor  man.  By  the  time  we  were  on  our  feet 
with  our  hats  off  he  had  turned  his  back  upon  us  as 
though  to  speak  to  Lord  Grey,  but  really,  I  believe, 
to  hide  his  chagrin.  When  he  turned  to  us  again  both 
of  them  welcomed  us,  saying  that  there  was  work 
enough  for  all,  in  enlisting  men,  making  out  billets,  etc. 
So  without  more  ado  we  gave  our  horses  to  the  ostlers 
at  an  inn.  Mr.  Blick  at  once  began  to  blarney  the 
standers-by  into  joining,  while  I,  sitting  at  a  little  table, 
in  the  open  air,  wrote  out  copies  of  a  letter  addressed 
to  the  local  gentry.  My  copies  were  carried  from  Lyme 
by  messengers  that  afternoon  but,  alas  for  my  master, 
they  did  not  bring  many  gentry  to  us. 

Now  while  I  was  writing  at  the  table,  under  the  great 
flapping  standard,  with  the  Duke,  in  his  purple  coat, 
walking  about  in  front  of  me,  I  had  a  pretty  full  view 
of  the  crowd  which  ringed  us  in.  We  were  circled  about 
by  a  crowd  of  gaping  admirers;  from  whom,  every 
minute,  Mr.  Blick,  or  the  Duke,  or  Lord  Grey,  would 
select  a  sheepish  grinning  man  to  serve  under  our 
colours.  Among  the  crowd  I  noticed  a  little  old  lame 
man  with  a  long  white  beard.  He  was  a  puppet-man,  , 
who  was  making  the  people  laugh  by  dancing  his  puppets 


198  MARTIN  HYDE 

almost  under  the  Duke's  nose.  As  he  jerked  the  puppet- 
strings,  he  played  continually  on  his  pan-pipes  the 
ribald  tune  of  "  Hey,  boys,  up  go  we,"  then  very  popu- 
lar. The  Duke  spoke  to  him  once;  but  he  did  not  an- 
swer, only  bowed  very  low,  with  his  hat  off,  which 
made  the  people  think  him  an  idiot  or  a  jester.  They 
laughed  heartily  at  him.  After  a  bit,  it  occurred  to  me 
that  this  old  puppet-shaker  always  crept  into  the  ring 
(with  his  hat  off  to  receive  alms)  whenever  the  Duke 
spoke  aside  to  Lord  Grey,  or  to  some  other  officer. 
I  watched  him  narrowly  to  make  sure;  because  some- 
thing in  his  manner  made  me  suspect  that  he  was 
trying  to  catch  what  our  leaders  said  to  each  other. 
I  tried  to  recall  where  I  had  seen  the  old  man;  for  I  had 
seen  him  before.  He  had  been  at  Exeter  on  the  day 
we  set  out  for  Sidmouth,  so  much  I  remembered  clearly; 
but  looking  at  him  carefully,  with  my  head  full  of  mem- 
ories of  faces,  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  had  been  at 
Dorchester  also.  Surely  an  old  man,  lame  in  the  left  leg 
like  this  man,  had  gone  down  a  narrow  lane  in  front  of 
me  in  Dorchester.  I  had  not  thought  of  it  in  Dorches- 
ter; but  I  thought  of  it  now,  with  a  feeling  that  it  was 
strange  to  meet  again  thus  in  Lyme.  I  took  good  stock 
of  the  man,  wondering  if  he  were  a  spy.  He  was  a  dirty 
old  man  enough.  His  dirty  fingers  poked  through  ragged 
mittens.  His  cheeks  were  all  swathed  up  in  a  woollen 
comforter.  I  made  the  mistake  of  looking  at  him  so 
hard  that  I  made  him  look  at  me.  Seeing  that  I  was 


THE  LANDING  199 

staring  at  him,  with  a  face  full  of  suspicion,  he  walked 
boldly  up  to  me,  holding  out  his  hat  for  my  charity.  We 
stared  at  each  other,  while  he  blew  a  blast  on  his  pan- 
pipes, at  which  everybody  laughed. 

"  Come,  come,  boy/7   said  Lord  Grey  to  me,  "  we 
want  those  letters  done.    Never  mind  about  the  pup- 
pets.     Here,     old    man"    (giving    him    a    penny), 
"you  take   yourself   off   now.     Or   are  you  going  to 
enlist?  " 

The  people  laughed  again  at  this,  while  the  old  man, 
after  a  flourish  of  his  hat  to  me,  piped  up  a  lively 
quickstep,  called  "  Jockeys  to  the  Fair." 

He  disappeared  after  this.  I  did  not  see  him  again 
until  our  troubles  began,  later  in  the  morning.  I  was 
finishing  off  the  last  of  my  letters,  when  some  of  our 
scouts  rode  in  to  make  a  grave  report  to  the  Duke. 
They  had  ridden  in  pretty  hard,  their  horses  were  lath- 
ered all  over.  They  themselves  were  in  an  internal 
lather;  for  they  had  just  had  their  first  sight  of  war. 
They  had  come  into  touch  (so  they  declared)  with  the 
whole  of  Albemarle's  militia,  marching  out  to  attack 
them.  On  being  questioned,  it  turned  out  that  they  had 
heard  this  from  an  excited  labourer  who  had  run  to  them 
with  the  news,  as  they  stood  guard  in  a  roadside  field  a 
few  miles  out  of  Lyme.  They  themselves  had  seen 
nothing,  but  the  news  seemed  so  probable  that  the  Duke 
acted  on  it.  He  sent  me  off  at  once  with  a  message  to  a 
clever,  handsome  gentleman  who  was  in  charge  of  the 


200  MARTIN  HYDE 

cavalry  in  the  street.  It  was  in  giving  the  message  that  I 
saw  the  old  man  again.  He  was  then  limping  up  the  street 
on  the  Sidmouth  road,  going  fast,  in  spite  of  his  lameness. 
I  gave  my  message  to  the  captain,  who  commanded  his 
trumpeter  to  call  to  arms.  The  trumpeter  blew  nobly; 
but  the  sight  of  the  confusion  afterwards  showed  me  how 
little  raw  troops  can  be  trusted.  There  was  a  hasty 
scramble  for  horses  rather  than  a  setting  forth.  Some 
men  quarreled  over  weapons;  others  wrestled  with  har- 
ness; others  ran  about  wildly,  asking  what  was  happen- 
ing, was  it  to  be  a  battle,  what  did  blowing  on  the  trumpet 
mean?  Some  few,  thinking  the  worst,  got  wisdom  in 
those  few  moments.  They  took  horses  from  the  ranks, 
but  instead  of  forming  up  with  the  regiments,  they 
galloped  off  home,  having  had  enough  of  soldiering  at 
the  first  order.  The  foot  behaved  rather  better,  knowing, 
perhaps,  that  if  they  fought  they  would  be  behind 
hedges,  in  some  sort  of  shelter.  Even  so,  they  seemed 
a  raw  lot  of  clumsy  bumpkins  as  they  marched  up. 
Many  of  them  were  in  ploughmen's  smock-frocks; 
hardly  any  of  them  had  any  sense  of  handling  their  guns. 
They  had  drums  with  them,  which  beat  up  a  quickstep, 
giving  each  man  of  them  a  high  sense  of  his  importance, 
especially  if  he  had  been  drinking.  People  in  the  road- 
way cheered  them,  until  they  heard  that  there  was  to  be 
a  battle.  Those  who  were  coming  in  to  join  us  found  it  a 
reason  for  hesitation. 
After  a  lot  of  confusion,  the  army  drew  out  of  Lyme 


THE  LANDING  201 

along  the  Sidmouth  road,  followed  by  a  host  of  sight- 
seers. Some  of  the  best  mounted  rode  on  ahead  at  a 
trot,  under  the  handsome  man,  Mr.  Fletcher,  who  was 
their  captain.  I  followed  on  with  the  foot-soldiers,  who 
marched  extremely  slowly.  They  halted  at  their  own 
discretion;  nor  did  they  seem  to  understand  that  orders 
given  were  to  be  obeyed.  What  they  liked,  poor  fellows, 
was  to  see  the  women  admiring  them.  The  march  up  the 
hill  out  of  Lyme  was  a  long  exhibition  of  vanity,  the 
women  waving  their  handkerchiefs,  the  men  putting  on 
all  sorts  of  airs,  jetting  like  gamecocks.  When  we  got 
up  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  I  saw  the  old  lame  puppet-man, 
sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  wild,  unenclosed,  gorse-covered 
common-land  which  stretches  away  towards  the  town 
of  Axminster.  He  was  watching  us  with  deep  interest. 
Our  men  were  spreading  out  into  line  upon  this  common. 
The  horse  was  ranging  on,  bobbing  about,  far  ahead. 
The  foot  were  looking  about  eagerly  as  they  got  out  of 
the  ranks  in  which  they  had  marched;  but  they  could 
see  no  trace  of  any  enemy  I  caught  sight  of  the  Duke 
four  hundred  yards  away,  a  little  figure  sitting  alone  on 
his  horse,  in  front  of  half  a  dozen  others.  They  were  all 
scanning  the  country,  all  the  way  round.  Presently 
I  called  out  that  I  saw  the  enemy.  Half  a  dozen  cav- 
alry were  riding  up  a  combe  far  off.  But  they  were  our 
own  men,  not  the  militia.  They  were  some  of  our  scouts 
riding  off  as  "  feelers  "  to  spy  out  Albemarle's  position. 
All  the  time  that  we  were  up  there  on  the  hill,  the  little 


202  MARTIN  HYDE 

old  man  pottered  about  among  the  men,  now  listening 
to  what  they  had  to  say,  now  asking  the  soldiers  to  look 
at  his  pretty  puppets.  When  the  returning  scouts 
brought  word  that  no  troops  were  near  us,  so  that  we  were 
free  to  march  back  again,  he  was  still  there,  packing 
up  his  puppets  in  tarred  canvas,  as  though  about  to 
march  off  to  the  next  market-town.  We  marched  past 
him,  as  he  sat  in  the  heather.  I  passed  quite  close  to 
him,  staring  at  him  hard,  for  to  tell  the  truth  he  was  on 
my  mind.  I  was  suspicious  of  him.  He  took  off  his  hat 
to  me,  with  a  smile;  but  he  did  not  speak.  Then  my 
troops  swung  round,  down  the  hill,  leaving  him  alone 
there,  watching  the  men  pass. 

Other  things  put  him  out  of  my  mind  during  the  after- 
noon. I  was  kept  busy  writing  orders  to  scouts;  for  we 
were  sending  out  scouts  in  every  direction,  partly  to 
protect  us  from  surprise,  partly  to  direct  new  recruits 
to  our  headquarters.  Mr.  B lick,  who  knew  the  ground 
dictated  the  letters,  helped  by  Mr.  Fletcher,  who  studied 
a  big  map  with  great  attention;  I  was  writing  all  that 
afternoon.  Lyme  grew  noisier  during  the  day,  as  the 
recruits  became  more  drunk.  Many  steady  men -turned 
away  from  us  when  they  saw  our  disorder.  I  myself 
had  been  brought  up  to  abhor  drunkenness.  I  found 
the  state  of  drunken  uproar  very  terrible.  I  feared 
that  such  an  army  would  never  achieve  any  great  deed. 
I  thought  that  such  sin  would  be  punished.  Our 
soldiers  were  not  behaving  like  knights  sworn  to  a  good 


THE  LANDING  203 

cause;  but  like  boors  at  a  fair.     That  day  we  lost  our 
only  good  officer,  Mr.  Fletcher. 

I  have  spoken  of  this  gentleman.  He  was  in  command 
of  the  horse  under  Lord  Grey.  He  was  a  much  better 
soldier  than  my  Lord;  a  better  officer,  too;  a  better 
man.  Now  in  the  day's  confusion,  with  everything 
topsy  turvy,  the  Duke's  messenger,  "  Old  Dare,"  rode 
into  Lyme  from  Taunton,  where  he  had  galloped  the 
day  before  to  spread  the  news  of  our  arrival.  This  Dare 
was  a  quick-tempered,  not  very  clever,  popular  man 
with  a  great  deal  of  influence  in  the  countryside.  On 
his  way  back  to  us  from  Taunton,  someone  lent,  or  gave, 
him  a  very  fine  horse.  It  may  have  been  meant  as  a 
gift  to  the  Duke;  I  do  not  know.  Anyhow  Old  Dare 
rode  in  on  this  horse  with  letters  from  Taunton,  which 
he  handed  to  Mr.  Fletcher  to  give  to  the  Duke.  Fletcher, 
our  cavalry  commander,  had  as  yet  no  horse;  so  seeing 
the  splendid  charger  on  which  Old  Dare  rode,  he  ordered 
Old  Dare  to  give  it  up  to  him.  He  was  the  real  com- 
mander of  the  army,  with  a  military  right,  if  no  real 
right,  to  take  what  horse  he  liked  from  any  subordinate 
officer.  But  Old  Dare,  like  so  many  of  our  men,  had 
no  knowledge  of  what  soldier's  discipline  meant.  He 
saw,  hi  Fletcher,  a  gentleman  with  whom  he  had  lived 
as  an  equal  for  the  last  fortnight.  He  was  not  going 
to  give  up  his  horse  like  that;  not  he.  Fletcher  (speak- 
ing sharply)  told  him  to  obey  without  further  words, 
at  which  Dare  in  a  sudden  flush  of  temper  struck  him 


204  MARTIN  HYDE 

with  his  riding  switch.  Fletcher  was  not  a  patient  man. 
He  could  not  let  an  act  of  gross  mutiny  pass  unpunished, 
nor  would  he  suffer  an  insult.  He  shot  Dare  dead 
upon  the  spot,  in  full  view  of  some  hundreds  of  us.  It 
was  all  done  in  an  instant.  There  was  Dare  lying  dead, 
never  to  stir  again.  There  was  Fletcher,  our  only  soldier, 
with  a  smoking  pistol  in  his  hand,  thinking  that  he  had 
taught  the  army  a  lesson  in  obedience.  There  was  the 
army  all  about  him,  flocking  round  in  a  swarm,  not  look- 
ing at  it  as  a  military  punishment  but  as  a  savage 
murder,  for  which  he  deserved  to  be  hanged.  Then  the 
Duke  hastened  up  to  make  things  quiet,  before  the  army 
avenged  their  friend.  He  drew  Fletcher  aside,  though 
the  people  murmured  at  him  for  speaking  to  a  murderer. 
He  was  unnerved  by  Fletcher's  act.  He  had  no  great 
vitality.  Sudden  crises  such  as  this  unnerved  him, 
by  using  up  his  forces.  A  crisis  of  this  kind  (a  small 
thing  in  a  great  rebellion)  was  often  enough  to  keep 
his  brain  from  considering  other,  more  important, 
more  burning  questions  concerning  the  entire  army. 
The  end  of  this  business  was  as  unhappy  as  its  beginning. 
Fletcher,  our  only  soldier,  was  sent  aboard  the  frigate 
in  which  the  Duke  had  sailed  from  Holland.  When  the 
tide  served,  she  set  sail  with  him  for  Corunna  in  Spain. 
With  him  she  carried  all  our  hopes  of  success,  together 
with  a  quantity  of  stores  which  would  have  been  of  use 
later  in  the  expedition.  As  I  left  the  Cebb,  or  pier,  which 
makes  Lyme  harbour,  I  saw  the  little  lame  puppet-man 


THE  LANDING  205 

turning  away  from  the  beach  with  a  company  of  men 
who  wore  our  green  boughs.  For  a  few  steps  I  hurried 
towards  him,  so  that  I  might  overhear  what  he  was 
saying;  I  made  so  sure  that  he  was  a  spy.  Mr.  Blick, 
to  whom  I  told  my  fears,  bade  me  not  to  worry  myself. 
"  Why,  boy,"  he  said,  "  there  are  five  hundred  spies 
in  Lyme;  but  they  can't  hurt  us.  Before  they  can  get  off 
to  tell  our  enemies  all  about  us  there  won't  be  any  ene- 
mies left.  We  shall  be  marching  at  once.  We  shall 
drive  everything  before  us."  He  spoke  with  such  confi- 
dence that  I  believed  him;  yet  the  old  man  troubled 
me,  for  all  that.  When  you  see  a  face  continually,  at 
a  time  when  you  are  excited,  you  connect  the  face 
with  your  excitement;  it  troubles  your  nerves. 

The  day  wore  by  with  all  the  unreality  of  a  day  of 
confusion.  I  was  kept  at  work  until  the  light  was  gone; 
then  served  at  the  Duke's  table  while  he  supped,  then 
snatched  a  hurried  supper  while  he  talked  with  his 
officers.  After  supper,  I  had  to  go  from  billet  to  billet, 
looking  for  people  whom  the  officers  wished  to  see. 
Something  very  important  was  in  the  air.  The  discus- 
sion in  the  inn's  great  room  was  the  first  serious 
council  of  the  war.  About  eleven  o'clock,  Lord  Grey 
came  out  of  the  room,  telling  me  to  follow  him.  We  went 
out  into  the  street,  where  presently  our  men  began  to 
fall  in,  four  or  five  abreast,  about  a  hundred  ranks  of 
them.  A  few  cavalry  came,  too,  but  not  enough,  I  heard 
Lord  Grey  say,  not  enough  to  do  any  good  with.  In  spite 


206  MARTIN  HYDE 

of  all  the  efforts  of  those  who  loved  us  (by  efforts  I  mean 
the  robbing  of  farm-stables)  we  were  very  short  of 
horses.  Those  which  we  had  were  not  good;  they  were 
cart,  not  saddle-horses,  unused  to  the  noise  of  guns. 
Still,  such  as  they  were,  they  formed  up  in  the  street 
ahead  of  the  foot.  The  force  took  a  long  time  to  form; 
for  the  men  kept  saying  that  they  had  forgotten  some- 
thing, their  powder-horn,  their  cartridges,  their  guns, 
even.  Then  they  had  to  run  back  to  their  billets  to 
fetch  whatever  it  was,  while  those  who  remained  be- 
hind, puzzled  at  the  movement  so  late  at  night,  when 
they  wished  to  sleep,  began  to  get  nervous.  They  began 
to  ask  where  it  was  that  we  were  going,  was  it  to  Ax- 
minster,  or  to  Bridport? 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A   VOICE   AT  DAWN 

WORD  was  passed  about  that  we  were  going  to  sur- 
prise the  militia  at  Bridport  at  dawn.  We  were  told 
to  keep  quiet  on  the  march,  after  passing  Charmouth, 
as  the  night  was  so  still  that  we  should  be  heard  far 
off.  We  did  not  know  how  near  the  Bridport  outposts 
might  come  to  us  under  cover  of  the  night.  "  You 
come  with  us,  Martin,"  said  Lord  Grey.  "  Take  a  horse. 
If  we  win  Bridport  you'll  have  to  gallop  back  with  the 
news."  I  was  made  a  little  nervous  by  the  thought  of 
going  into  battle  so  soon;  but  gulping  down  my  fears  I 
mounted  a  marsh-mare  which  stood  near  the  inn  door. 
I  hoped  sincerely  that  no  militia  bullet  would  find  any 
part  of  either  of  us.  Then  the  drums  began  to  play 
us  out  of  the  town  with  their  morning  roll.  A  fife 
whined  out,  going  down  to  our  marrows  with  its  shrill- 
ness. Lights  showed  at  the  windows.  We  saw  dark 
heads  framed  in  yellow  patches.  People  called  to  us. 
In  the  door  of  the  great  inn  stood  Monmouth;  his  face 
seemed  very  white  hi  the  glare  of  the  torches.  He 
raised  his  hand  to  us  as  we  passed  him.  The  last  thing 
I  noticed  of  the  town,  for  I  rode  in  the  rear  with  Lord 


208  MARTIN  HYDE 

Grey,  were  the  ranks  passing  the  lamp  on  the  town  hall. 
They  came  up  to  it  in  waves,  their  cloaks  showing  in 
a  glimmer  for  an  instant.  Then  they  passed  on  into 
the  night,  sliding  forwards  slowly  with  a  steady  roll,  like 
the  moving  of  waves  to  the  shore. 

We  were  a  long  time  riding;  so  long  that  the  dawn 
was  on  us  by  the  time  we  were  within  shot  of  the  enemy. 
I  don't  remember  very  much  about  the  ride,  except 
that  it  was  unreal,  very  unreal;  for  the  mists  came  down, 
blotting  the  world  from  us,  so  that  we  rode  in  a  swirl  of 
cold  grey,  amid  a  noise  of  dropping.  When  we  got  to 
the  top  of  the  long  hill  after  Chideock  I  was  bidden 
halt  at  a  cross-roads,  with  a  waggon  full  of  ammunition, 
while  the  force  moved  on  to  the  attack.  The  hills  were 
showing  up  clearly  above  the  mist;  but  the  valley  lay 
like  a  sea,  a  great  grey  formless  level,  like  some  world  of 
the  ghosts.  The  troops  passed  down  in  it,  moving  pretty 
briskly,  lest  the  mist  should  lift  before  they  were  in  posi- 
tion. Most  of  them  knew  the  country,  so  that  they 
could  well  walk  confidently;  but  their  quickness  had 
something  nervous  in  it,  as  though  they  were  ill  at 
ease.  Very  soon  they  were  out  of  sight,  out  of  hearing, 
swallowed  up  in  the  fog. 

I  waited  a  long  time  (as  it  seemed)  up  there  at  the 
cross-roads.  After  a  long  wait  I  rode  a  little  down 
the  hill,  from  sheer  anxiety.  I  pulled  up  in  a  bank 
of  cloud,  through  which  I  could  see  dimly,  in  the  growing 
light,  for  about  a  dozen  yards.  I  was  leaning  well  for- 


I 


A  VOICE  AT  DAWN  209 

ward,  listening  for  the  sound  of  shooting,  when  something 
made  me  look  down.  Someone  was  standing  at  my  side, 
slipping  something  into  my  pocket.  It  gave  me  a  start. 
I  clutched  at  the  person.  It  was  the  old  lame  puppet- 
man  who  had  been  at  Lyme  the  day  before.  "  Latter 
for  ee,"  he  said  in  a  whisper.  "  Read  en,  unless  you'm 
a  fool."  His  hand  pressed  lightly  on  my  bridle  hand 
for  an  instant;  then  he  ducked  sideways  swiftly  into 
the  wilderness  of  ferny  gorse  at  the  side  of  the  road, 
where  I  could  not  hope  to  follow  him,  even  if  the  mist 
had  not  hidden  him.  Something  in  the  voice,  something 
in  the  lightness  of  the  touch  startled  me  into  the  knowl- 
edge. As  he  ducked,  it  came  over  me  that  this  old  man 
was  Aurelia  disguised,  come  to  spy  upon  us,  but  bent, 
also,  on  giving  me  a  warning,  some  little  kind  word  of 
advice,  at  the  beginning  of  my  lord's  war.  I  ought  to 
have  recognized  her  before.  I  had  been  blind.  She  had 
been  under  my  eyes  the  whole  day,  yet  I  had  never  once 
suspected,  no  one,  of  all  that  army,  had  suspected.  She 
had  been  disguised  by  a  master-hand.  She  had  played 
her  part  like  a  great  actress.  It  was  terrible  to  think 
of  the  risk  she  was  running.  One  man's  suspicion,  in  a 
time  of  war,  would  have  been  enough  to  give  her  to  a 
horrible  death.  I  tried  to  follow  her  into  the  jungle  into 
which  she  had  vanished;  but  my  horse  would  not  face 
the  furze.  I  tried  hard  to  see  her,  but  it  was  no  use; 
the  tangle  was  too  thick;  she  had  gone.  I  called  out  to 
her  softly;  but  I  got  no  answer;  only,  at  some  little 


210  MARTIN  HYDE 

distance  away,  I  heard  a  twig  snap  under  a  passer's 
foot. 

In  a  momentary  clearing  of  the  mist,  I  pulled  out  my 
letter.  It  was  written  in  a  fine,  firm  hand,  without  sig- 
nature. It  was  a  short,  purposeful  letter,  which  kept 
sharply  to  the  point.  It  only  contained  two  lines. 
"  Your  Duke's  cause  is  hopeless.  He  has  no  possible 
chance.  Take  the  Axminster  road  to  safety."  That  was 
the  whole  letter.  It  gave  me  a  feeling  of  uneasiness; 
but  it  did  not  tempt  me  to  desert.  I  thought  that  if  I 
deserted  I  might  very  well  be  tortured  into  betraying 
all  that  I  knew  of  the  Duke's  plans,  while  I  doubted 
very  much  whether  the  Duke's  body-servant  would  find 
mercy  from  the  merciless,  frightened  King.  What 
was  I  to  do,  even  if  I  escaped  from  the  King's  party? 
I  was  too  young  for  any  employment  worthy  of  my 
station  in  life.  I  had  neither  the  strength  nor  the  skill 
for  manual  labour.  Who  would  employ  a  boy  of  my  age 
on  a  farm  or  in  a  factory?  All  that  I  could  hope  would 
be  to  get  away  to  sea,  to  a  life  which  I  had  already  found 
loathsome.  As  to  going  back  to  my  uncle's  house,  I 
doubt  if  I  would  have  gone,  even  had  I  had  the  certainty 
of  getting  to  it  safely.  When  a  boy  has  once  taken  to 
an  adventurous  life,  nothing  but  very  ill  health  will 
drive  him  back  to  home-life.  Yet  there  was  the  thought 
of  Aurelia.  Somehow  the  thought  of  her  was  a  stronger 
temptation  than  any  fear  of  defeat.  I  would  have  liked 
to  have  seen  that  old  enemy  of  mine  again. 


A  VOICE  AT  DAWN  211 

I  was  thinking  over  the  letter,  wondering  what  would 
come  to  the  Duke's  cause,  when  the  valley  below  me 
began  to  ring  with  firing.  A  heavy  fire  had  begun  there. 
It  thundered  in  a  long  roll,  which  died  down,  momenta- 
rily, into  single  sputterings  through  which  one  could 
hear  shouting.  About  twenty  minutes  after  the  begin- 
ning of  the  shots,  when  all  the  party  on  the  hill-top  were 
edging  nearer  to  the  battle,  taking  a  few  steps  at  a  time, 
on  tenterhooks  to  be  engaged,  we  heard  a  great  gallop 
of  horses'  hoofs  coming  to  us  at  full  tilt.  At  first  we  were 
scared  by  this,  for  the  noise  was  tremendous,  too  great, 
we  inexperienced  soldiers  thought,  to  be  caused  by  our 
little  troop  of  cavalry.  We  thought  that  it  was  the  Brid- 
port  militia  charging  down  on  us,  after  destroying  our 
friends.  The  mist  by  this  time  was  all  blowing  clear, 
though  wisps  of  it  clung  along  the  hedgerows  in  unreal 
rolling  folds.  The  day  above  was  breaking  in  the  sultry 
blue  summer  dimness.  We  could  see,  I  suppose,  for 
a  quarter  of  a  mile,  straight  down  the  road. 

We  had  swung  round,  facing  towards  Lyme,  when  the 
noise  of  the  hoofs  first  came  to  us.  When  the  turn  of 
the  road  showed  us  a  squad  of  cavalry  coming  to  us  at 
the  charge,  led  by  half  a  dozen  riderless  horses,  we  waited 
for  no  more.  We  spurred  up  our  nags  in  a  panic,  till 
we,  too,  were  going  full  tilt  for  Lyme,  shouting  out  as  we 
went  any  nonsense  which  came  to  our  heads.  We  were 
in  a  panic  fear;  I  believe  that  the  horses  in  some  way 
felt  it  too.  We  galloped  back  to  Chideock  as  though 


212  MARTIN  HYDE 

we  were  chased  by  witches,  while  the  gun-firing  at  Brid- 
port  steadily  grew  less,  till  at  last  it  stopped  altogether. 
At  Chideock,  some  of  the  cavalry  came  up  with  us. 
They  were  our  own  men,  our  own  troop  of  horse,  not  an 
enemy  after  all.  The  riderless  horses  were  a  few  of  the 
militia  chargers  which  had  been  seized  from  a  cavalry 
outpost  to  the  west  of  the  town.  We  had  bolted  from 
our  own  crazy  terror.  But  we  were  not  the  only  fleers. 
Our  cavalry  had  bolted  first,  at  the  first  volley  outside 
the  town.  It  is  unjust  to  say  that  they  were  afraid. 
Lord  Grey  was  not  a  coward;  our  men  had  stout  hearts 
enough;  but  they  had  not  reckoned  on  the  horses.  The 
first  discharge  of  guns  scared  the  horses  almost  frantic. 
They  swung  about  out  of  action  in  a  couple  of  seconds. 
Another  volley  made  them  all  bolt.  It  was  when  they 
were  bolting  that  the  men  began  to  grow  alarmed.  Fear 
is  a  contagious  thing;  it  seems  to  pass  from  spirit  to 
spirit,  like  a  flame  along  a  powder  train,  till  perhaps  a 
whole  army  feels  it.  Our  horsemen  pulled  up  among  us 
in  Chideock  in  as  bad  a  scare  as  you  ever  saw;  it  was 
twenty  minutes  before  they  dared  walk  back  to  find  out 
what  had  happened  to  the  foot  at  Bridport,  after  their 
retreat. 

Our  foot  came  back  very  angry  with  the  horse.  They 
had  fired  away  a  lot  of  powder  to  very  little  purpose,  be- 
fore orders  reached  them,  bidding  them  retire.  They 
had  not  wished  to  retire;  but  at  last  they  had  done  so 
sullenly,  vowing  to  duck  Lord  Grey  for  deserting  them. 


A  VOICE  AT  DAWN  213 

We  had  taken  about  a  dozen  horses  without  harness, 
instead  of  the  two  hundred  equipped  chargers  which 
we  had  promised  ourselves.  We  had  killed  a  few  of  the 
militia,  so  everybody  said;  but  in  the  confusion  of  the 
powder-smoke  who  could  say  how  many?  They  were 
certain  that  none  of  our  own  men  had  been  killed;  but 
in  a  force  so  newly  raised,  who  could  say  for  certain 
which  were  our  own  men?  As  a  matter  of  fact  several 
of  our  men  had  been  taken  by  the  royalists,  which  is  as 
much  as  to  say  that  they  had  been  killed.  Altogether 
the  affair  had  been  a  hopeless  failure  from  the  very 
beginning.  The  foot  had  learned  to  despise  the  horse. 
The  horses  had  learned  to  be  afraid  of  gun-fire.  The 
cavalrymen  had  learned  to  despise  Lord  Grey.  The  mili- 
tia had  learned  to  despise  us.  The  only  valuable  lesson 
that  our  men  had  learned  was  that  a  battle  was  not 
so  terrible  a  thing.  You  knelt  down,  fired  your  gun, 
shouted,  borrowed  your  neighbour's  drinking  bottle, 
took  a  long  swig,  then  fired  again,  with  more  shouting, 
till  somebody  clapped  you  on  the  shoulder  with  orders 
to  come  away.  But  this  lesson,  precious  as  it  was 
did  not  console  our  men  for  their  beating.  They  were 
cross  with  the  long  night-march  as  well  as  with  Lord 
Grey's  desertion.  We  dragged  our  way  back  to  Lyme 
very  slowly,  losing  a  good  fifty  of  our  number  by  de- 
sertion. They  slipped  away  home,  after  falling  out  of 
the  ranks  to  rest.  They  had  had  enough  of  fighting  for 
the  Duke;  they  were  off  home.  The  officers  were  strict 


214  MARTIN  HYDE 

at  first,  trying  to  stop  these  desertions;  but  the  temper  of 
the  men  was  so  bad  that  at  last  they  gave  it  up,  hoping 
that  some  at  least  would  stay.  That  was  another  evil 
consequence  of  fighting  for  the  crown  with  an  undisci- 
plined mob;  they  could  sustain  defeat  as  ill  as  they  could 
use  victory.  We  did  not  trail  into  Lyme  until  after 
noon;  for  we  marched  like  snails,  fearing  that  the  militia 
would  follow  us.  When  we  got  into  camp,  the  men 
flung  their  arms  from  them,  careless  of  the  officer's 
orders.  All  that  they  wanted  was  sleep  (we  had  eaten 
a  late  breakfast  at  Charmouth),  they  were  not  going 
to  do  any  more  soldier's  foolery  of  drill,  or  sentry-go. 
As  for  Lord  Grey,  whom  everybody  called  a  coward,  the 
Duke  could  not  cashier  him,  because  he  was  the  best 
officer  remaining  to  us.  Poor  Fletcher,  who  might  have 
made  something  of  our  cavalry,  was  by  this  time  far 
away  at  sea.  The  other  officers  had  shown  their  in- 
capacity that  morning.  For  my  own  part,  I  chose  out 
a  snug  billet  on  a  hearthrug  in  the  George  Inn,  where  I 
slept  very  soundly  for  several  hours.  While  I  slept, 
the  Duke  held  a  melancholy  council  to  debate  what 
could  be  done. 

They  say  that  he  ought  to  have  marched  that  morning 
to  Exeter,  where  .Lord  Albemarle's  militia  (all  of  them 
ripe  for  rebellion)  would  have  joined  him.  Exeter  or 
Bristol,  one  or  the  other,  would  have  been  a  fine  plume 
in  his  cap,  a  strong,  fortified  town,  full  of  arms,  where 
he  could  have  established  himself  firmly.  I  do  not  know 


A  VOICE  AT  DAWN  215 

why  he  decided  against  marching  to  Exeter.  He  may 
have  had  bad  reports  of  troops  being  on  the  road  waiting 
for  him;  or  he  may  have  thought  that  his  friends  (who 
were  plentiful  on  the  Bristol  road)  would  rally  to  him  as 
soon  as  he  appeared.  He  was  deceived  by  those  pro- 
testing gentry,  his  friends,  who  had  welcomed  him  so 
warmly  only  a  few  months  before.  He  thought  that  all 
the  countryside  was  ready  to  join  him.  He  had  been 
deceived,  as  perhaps  a  cleverer  man  would  have  been 
deceived,  by  the  warmth  of  his  welcome  on  his  earlier 
visit.  An  Englishman  is  always  polite  to  a  Duke  when 
he  meets  him  in  a  friendly  gathering.  But  when  the 
Duke  says,  "  Lend  me  all  your  ready  money,  together 
with  your  horses,  or  rather  give  them  to  me,  since  I 
am  the  King,"  his  politeness  leaves  him;  he  gets 
away  to  London  to  warn  the  police  as  fast  as  his  horse 
will  take  him.  Thus  it  was  with  the  Duke's  friends 
scattered  about  along  the  main-road  from  Lyme  to 
Bristol. 

I  know  not  who  persuaded  the  Duke  to  march; 
probably  it  was  Grey;  it  may  have  been  Venner;  it 
may  have  been  a  momentary  mad  resolution  caused  by 
a  glass  of  wine.  They  say  that  he  was  solemn  about  it, 
as  though  he  expected  to  fail.  Perhaps  he  would  have 
/gone  back  to  Holland  if  the  ship  had  been  still  in  the 
harbour,  but  of  course  she  had  gone  away.  He  would 
not  go  in  La  Reina;  for  she  was  sluggish  from  barnacles, 
having  been  long  un-careened.  The  Channel  at  this  time 


216  MARTIN  HYDE 

was  full  of  ships  looking  for  him ;  how  he  escaped  them 
when  he  sailed  from  Holland  I  cannot  think.  He 
hesitated  for  a  long  time,  poor  man,  before  deciding;  no 
man  could  have  acted  more  like  a  Stuart,  at  such  a  time. 
When  the  decision  was  made  he  gave  word  to  start  early 
on  the  following  morning.  But  this  I  did  not  know  till 
one  A.  M.,  when  Lord  Grey  routed  me  out  from  my  berth 
on  the  hearth-rug,  so  that  I  might  go  from  house  to 
house,  calling  up  our  officers. 

I  suppose  that  all  our  officers  were  out  of  bed  by  two 
o'clock,  yet  it  took  them  eight  hours  to  get  their  men 
together,  into  some  sort  of  order.  We  were  hardly  ready 
for  the  road  at  ten  A.  M.  when  the  drums  beat  up  to 
play  us  out  of  the  town.  As  I  was  the  Duke's  servant, 
I  was  allowed  to  ride  by  my  master;  I  daresay  people 
thought  that  I  was  the  young  Prince.  We  marched  up 
the  hill  gaily,  with  a  multitude  flocking  all  about  us, 
but  there  were  many  of  that  crowd  who  looked  doubt- 
fully at  my  master's  sad  face,  thinking  that  he  looked 
over-melancholy  for  a  conquering  king. 

We  marched  out  of  Lyme  into  a  valley,  through  a  sort 
of  suburb  called  Uplyme.  After  that  we  marched 
steadily  up  hill,  a  long  climb  of  two  miles,  having  a  great 
view  of  the  countryside  on  our  left  hand.  Our  right 
was  shut  from  us  by  a  wooded  hill.  It  was  a  warm, 
sunny  June  day:  the  grass  just  ripe  for  hay  harvest; 
the  country  at  its  best;  everything  at  its  full  flower,  so 
that  you  wondered  at  the  world's  abundance.  We  sent 


A  VOICE  AT  DAWN  217 

out  scouts,  when  we  were  about  a  mile  from  Lyme; 
but  when  we  were  at  the  top  of  the  hill  we  could  see  for 
ourselves,  without  putting  scouts  abroad.  We  could 
see  horsemen  on  the  high  ground  away  to  the  left, 
two  or  three  hundred  of  them.  Besides  these  there  were 
some  companies  of  foot  drawn  up  in  good  order  in  the 
fields  outside  Axminster,  at  some  distance  from  the 
town.  When  this  army  caught  sight  of  us,  it  began  to 
file  off  towards  the  town,  as  though  to  dispute  it  with  us, 
so  our  advanced  guard  pushed  on  to  drive  them  out  of 
it.  The  sight  of  so  many  men  in  order,  was  a  very 
moving  one.  To  see  them  advance  their  colours,  to 
see  the  light  on  the  shifting  steel,  to  hear  the  low  beating 
hum  of  the  feet  was  stirring  to  the  heart.  Word  ran 
along  the  line  that  there  was  going  to  be  a  battle.  Our 
foot  left  the  road,  so  as  to  spread  out  into  line  in  the  open, 
where  they  could  take  up  positions  behind  hedges.  I 
was  sent  back  to  the  rear  at  this  instant,  to  order  up 
the  ammunition  waggons,  so  that  I  missed  some  part 
of  the  operations;  but  I  shall  never  forget  how  confi- 
dently our  men  spread  out ;  they  marched  as  though  they 
were  going  into  the  fields  for  partridges.  The  drums 
began  again,  to  hearten  them,  but  there  was  no  need 
for  drums  in  that  company;  they  began  to  sing  of  their 
own  accord,  making  a  noise  which  drowned  the  drums 
altogether.  I  gave  my  orders  to  the  ammunition 
waggons,  which  were  blocked  in  a  jumble  of  sight-seers, 
camp-followers,  etc.,  etc.,  so  that  they  could  hardly 


218  MARTIN  HYDE 

move.  The  drivers  got  me  to  charge  my  horse  through 
the  mob  to  make  a  path,  which  I  did,  with  a  good  deal 
of  pain  to  myself,  for  the  people  thus  thrust  aside  struck 
at  me.  The  drivers  struck  out  at  them  in  return;  we 
had  a  little  fight  of  our  own,  while  Axminster  was 
being  won. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

I  SPEAK  WITH  AURELIA 

THE  next  thing  which  I  remember  was  coming  out  of 
the  mob  with  the  waggons  just  behind  me,  going  at  a 
smart  pace  to  a  position  on  the  army's  right.  The  road 
was  pretty  full  of  all  sorts  of  people;  but  as  we  shouted 
for  them  to  clear  the  way,  they  made  a  lane  for  us.  I 
saw  the  Duke's  little  clump  of  staff-officers  on  a  pitch 
of -rising  ground,  but  there  was  no  firing;  only  a  noise 
of  many  voices  singing.  Just  as  we  were  about  to  turn 
off  the  road  into  the  fields  behind  our  right  wing,  I  saw 
the  little  old  lame  puppet-man  sitting  on  a  donkey  by 
the  ditch  at  the  side  of  the  road.  I  shouted  to  the 
drivers  to  pass  on,  which  they  did,  at  full  tilt,  while  I 
drew  rein  by  the  old  man's  side.  "  Aurelia,"  I  said, 
"this  is  no  place  for  you.  Do  get  away  from  here 
before  they  find  you  out." 

"  Why,"  she  said,  very  calmly,  in  the  broad  burring 
man's  voice  which  she  imitated  so  exactly.  "  I  be 
come  'ere  to  find  you  out.  You'm  going  to  your 
death,  boy.  You  get  out  of  this  'ere  army  afore 
you'm  took.  I  tell  ee  thy  Duke  be  a  doomed  man. 
Look  at  en's  face.  Why,  boy,  there  be  eleven  thousand 


220  MARTIN  HYDE 

soldiers  a-marching  to  put  er  down.  You've  only  a  got 
a  quarter  of  that  lot.  Come  out  of  en,  boy.  Do-an't  ee 
be  led  wrong."  I  was  touched  by  her  kind  thought  for 
me;  she  was  risking  her  life  for  me  for  the  second  time, 
but  in  the  hurry  of  the  moment  I  could  not  put  words 
together  to  thank  her. 

"  Aurelia,"  I  said,  "  I  can't  talk  to  you  now.  Only 
get  out  of  this.  Don't  stay  here.  I'm  all  right." 

"  No,  Martin,"  she  said,  in  her  ordinary  voice, 
"  you're  not  all  right.  Come  out  of  this.  Slip  away 
tonight  to  Newenham  Abbey.  It  be  over  there,  not 
more  than  a  couple  of  miles.  Oh,  come,  come.  I 
can't  bear  to  see  you  going  away  to  certain  death.  I 
know  that  this  force  cannot  win." 

"  Yes,  Aurelia,"  I  answered.  "  But  I'm  not  going 
to  be  a  hang-back  for  all  that.  I'm  not  going  to  be 
a  coward.  You  risk  a  horrible  death,  only  to  tell  me  not 
to  do  the  same.  You  wouldn't  give  up  a  cause  you  be- 
lieved in,  merely  because  it  was  dangerous.  I'll  stick 
by  my  master,  Aurelia.  Don't  try  to  tempt  me." 

She  would  have  said  more ;  she  would  perhaps  have 
persuaded  me  from  my  heroics,  had  not  the  guns  begun 
firing.  That  broke  the  spell  with  a  vengeance ;  nothing 
could  be  done  after  that.  I  shook  up  my  horse,  hardly 
pausing  to  say  "  God  bless  you."  In  another  minute  she 
was  out  of  sight,  while  I  was  cantering  off  to  the  ex- 
treme right  wing  with  the  Duke's  orders  to  its  officers  to 
cut  in  on  the  road  to  Chard.  As  I  rode  along,  behind  the 


I  SPEAK  WITH  AURELIA  221 

scattered  line  of  our  men,  I  could  see  the  rolls  of  smoke 
from  the  firing  on  the  left.  The  men  on  the  right  were 
not  firing ;  but  being  raw  troops  they  were  edging  little  by 
little  towards  the  firing,  in  which  I  do  not  doubt  they 
longed  to  be,  for  the  sake  of  the  noise.  They  say  now 
that  the  Duke  threw  away  this  battle  at  Axminster.  He 
could  have  cut  Albemarle's  troops  to  pieces  had  he  chosen 
to  do  so.  They  made  a  pretty  bold  front  till  we  were 
within  gunfire  of  them,  when  they  all  scattered  off  to 
the  town  pell-mell.  While  they  were  in  the  town,  we 
could  have  cut  them  off  from  the  Chard  road,  which 
would  have  penned  them  in  while  we  worked  round 
to  seize  the  bridges.  After  that,  one  brisk  assault  would 
have  made  the  whole  batch  of  them  surrender.  Some 
of  our  officers  galloped  from  our  right  wing  (where  I 
was)  to  see  how  the  land  lay,  before  leading  off  their 
men  as  I  had  brought  them  word.  A  few  of  them  fired 
their  pistols,  when  they  came  to  the  road,  which  was 
enough  to  make  the  right  wing  double  forward  to  support 
them  without  orders.  In  a  minute  about  a  thousand  of 
us  were  running  fast  after  our  officers,  while  the  Duke's 
aides  charged  down  to  stop  us.  He  had  decided  not  to 
fight,  probably  thinking  that  it  would  do  his  cause  no 
good  by  killing  a  lot  of  his  subjects  so  early  in  his  reign. 
We  know  now  that  had  he  made  one  bold  attack  that 
morning,  the  whole  of  Albemarle's  force,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  officers,  would  have  declared  for  him.  In 
other  words  we  should  have  added  to  our  army  about 


222  MARTIN  HYDE 

a  thousand  drilled  armed  men  who  knew  the  country 
through  which  we  were  to  pass.  By  not  fighting,  we  dis- 
couraged our  own  army,  who  grumbled  bitterly  when 
they  found  their  second  battle  as  ineffectual  as  the 
fight  at  Bridport. 

I  remember  next  that  I  saw  the  whole  of  Albemarle's 
troops  flying  for  their  lives  along  the  Chard  road,  fling- 
ing away  their  weapons  as  they  ran.  They  had  the  start 
of  us;  but  a  resolute  captain  could  have  brought  them 
to  a  stand,  by  pushing  forward  his  cavalry.  However 
"  a  bridge  of  gold  to  a  flying  foe  "  is  a  good  saying.  We 
let  them  go.  When  our  cavalry  advanced  (to  keep  them 
on  the  move,  not  to  fight  with  them)  they  passed  the  time 
in  collecting  what  the  militia  had  flung  away;  about  four 
thousand  pounds'  worth  of  soldiers'  stores,  chiefly  uni- 
forms. 1  went  forward  with  the  horse  on  that  occasion. 
I  picked  up  altogether  about  a  dozen  muskets,  which  I 
gave  to  some  of  our  men  who  were  armed  only  with 
clubs.  Then  I  rode  back  to  report  myself  ready  for  serv- 
ice to  my  master,  who  was  getting  ready  for  camp, 
thinking  that  his  men  had  done  enough  for  one  day. 

It  was  a  sad  waste  of  time.  A  rough  camp  was  formed. 
We  went  no  further  for  that  time.  About  half  a  precious 
day  was  wasted,  which  might  have  brought  us  nearly  to 
Taunton  under  a  resolute  man,  sworn  to  conquer.  Some 
of  our  men  went  out  to  forage,  which  they  did  pretty 
roughly.  It  was  theft  with  violence,  coloured  over  by 
some  little  touch  of  law.  The  farmers  who  were  unpopu- 


I  SPEAK  WITH  AURELIA  223 

lar  thereabouts  had  their  cattle  driven  off;  their  ricks 
carted  off;  their  horses  stolen;  their  hen-roosts  de- 
stroyed. We  were  like  an  army  of  locusts,  eating  up 
everything  as  we  passed.  Our  promises  to  pay,  when  the 
King  came  to  his  own,  were  really  additional  insult; 
for  the  people  robbed  knew  only  too  well  how  Stuart 
kings  kept  their  promises.  One  strange  thing  I  saw  that 
night.  The  men  who  were  cooking  their  newly  stolen 
beef  at  the  camp-fires  kept  crying  out  for  camp-kettles 
in  which  to  boil  the  joints.  We  had  no  camp-kettles;  but 
an  old  man  came  forward  to  the  Duke's  quarters  to  ask 
if  he  might  show  the  men  how  to  cook  their  meat  without 
kettles.  The  Duke  at  once  commanded  him  to  show  us 
how  this  might  be  done. 

Like  most  useful  inventions,  it  was  very  simple.  It 
was  one  of  those  things  which  are  forgotten  as  life  be- 
comes civilized,  but  for  want  of  which  one  may  perish 
when  one  returns  to  barbarity,  as  in  war.  The  old  man 
began  by  placing  stout  poles  in  tripods  over  the  camp- 
fires,  lashing  them  firmly  at  the  top  with  faggot-binders. 
Then  he  took  the  hide  of  one  of  the  slaughtered  cattle, 
gathering  it  up  at  the  corners,  so  as  to  form  a  sort  of 
bag.  He  cut  some  long  narrow  strips  from  the  hide  of 
the  legs,  with  which  to  tie  the  four  corners  together. 
Then  he  lashed  the  four  corners  to  the  tripod,  so  that  the 
bag  hung  over  the  fire. 

"  There,"  he  said.  "  There  is  your  kettle.  Now  put 
water  into  en.  Boil  thy  victuals  in  er.  That  be  a 


224  MARTIN  HYDE 

soldier's  camp-kettle.  You  can  carry  your  kettle  on 
your  beef  till  you  be  ready  for  en." 

Indeed,  it  proved  to  be  a  very  good  kind  of  a  kettle, 
after  one  got  used  to  the  nastiness  of  it,  though  the  smell 
of  burning  hair  from  the  kettles  was  disgusting.  To  this 
day,  I  have  only  to  singe  a  few  hairs  in  a  candle  to  bring 
back  to  my  mind's  eye  that  first  day  in  camp  at  Ax- 
minster,  the  hill,  the  valley  ringed  in  by  combes,  the 
noise  of  the  horses,  the  sputtering  of  the  fires  of  green 
wood,  the  many  men  passing  about  aimlessly,  wondering 
at  the  ease  of  a  soldier's  life  after  the  labour  of  spring 
ploughing.  It  was  a  wonderful  sight,  that  first  camp 
of  ours;  but  the  men  for  the  most  part  grumbled  at  not 
fighting;  they  wanted  to  be  pushing  on,  to  seize  the  city 
of  Bristol,  instead  of  camping  there.  How  did  they 
know,  they  said,  that  the  weather  would  keep  fine?  How 
were  we  to  march  with  all  our  ten  baggage  waggons  if  the 
weather  turned  wet,  so  that  the  roads  became  muddy? 
The  roads  in  those  parts  became  deep  quagmires  in  rainy 
weather.  A  light  farmer's  market  cart  might  go  in 
up  to  the  axles  after  a  day's  steady  rain.  To  march 
through  such  roads  would  break  the  men's  hearts  quicker 
than  any  quantity  of  fighting,  however  disastrous.  Thus 
they  grumbled  about  the  camp-fires,  while  I  bustled 
over  the  Duke's  dinner,  in  the  intervals  of  running 
errands  for  the  colonel. 

That  evening,  after  the  summer  dusk  had  come,  but 
before  the  army  had  settled  to  sleep,  I  heard  an  old 


I  SPEAK  WITH  AURELIA  225 

man,  one  of  our  cavalrymen,  talking  to  another  trooper. 
"  Ah,"  he  said,  "  I  was  fighting  in  the  old  wars  under 
Oliver.  I've  seen  wars  enough.  You  mark  my  words, 
boy,  this  army  won't  do  much.  We've  not  got  enough 
men,  for  one  thing  We  could  have  had  fourteen  thousand 
or  more  if  he'd  thought  to  bring  muskets  for  en.  We've 
not  got  cavalry,  that's  another  thing.  When  us  do  come 
face  to  face  with  the  King's  men  us  shall  be  sore  put 
to  it  for  want  of  a  few  trusty  horses.  Horsemen  be  the 
very  backbones  of  armies  in  the  field.  Then,  boy,  we  not 
got  any  captains,  that's  worst  of  all.  The  Duke's  no 
captain.  If  he'd  been  a  captain  her'd  have  fought  this 
morning.  Them  others  aren't  captains  neither,  none  of 
them.  Besides,  what  are  they  doing  sitting  down  in 
camp  like  this  when  we  ought  to  be  marching?  Us 
ought  to  be  marching  now.  Marching  all  night,  never 
setting  down  once,  marching  in  two  armies,  one  to 
Exeter,  one  to  Bristol.  Us'd  'ave  the  two  towns  by  late 
tomorrow  night  if  us  was  under  old  Oliver.  It'll  take 
us  &  week  to  get  to  Bristol  at  this  rate.  By  that  time 
it  will  be  full  of  troops,  as  well  as  secured  by  ships.  As 
for  us,  by  that  time  we  shall  have  troops  all  round  us,  not 
to  speak  of  club-men." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  younger  man.  "  What  be  club-men, 
gaffer?  " 

"  You'll  know  soon  enough  what  club-men  are,"  the 
old  man  answered,  "  if  there's  any  more  of  this  drunken 
dirty  robbery  I  saw  this  afternoon.  Those  thieves  who 


226  MARTIN  HYDE 

stole  the  farmer's  cattle  would  have  been  shot  in  Oliver's 
time.  They'd  have  cast  lots  on  a  drum  in  sight  of  all  on 
us,  drawn  up.  The  men  who  got  the  low  numbers  would 
have  been  shot.  The  captains  would  have  pistolled  them 
where  they  stood.  If  this  robbing  goes  on,  all  the  farmers 
will  club  together  to  defend  themselves,  making  a  sort  of 
second  army  for  us  to  fight  against.  That  is  what  club- 
men means.  It's  not  a  nice  thing  to  fight  in  a  country 
where  there  are  club-men  all  round  you.  No,  boy.  So 
what  with  all  this,  boy,  I  be  going  to  creep  out  of  this  'ere 
army.  I  do-an't  like  the  look  of  things,  nor  I  do-an't  like 
the  way  things  are  done.  If  you  take  a  old  man's  advice 
you'll  come  too." 

"  Noa,"  said  the  honest  oaf,  "  I  be  agoin'  to  vight.  I 
be  a-goin'  to  London  town  to  be  a  girt  sol-dier." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  old  man,  shortly,  "  you  be  a  vule, 
Tummas.  Wish  ee  good  day,  maister."  Then  the  old 
man  turned  sharply  on  his  heel  to  leave  the  camp, 
which  he  did  easily  enough,  for  he  knew  several  of  the 
sentries.  Even  if  he  had  not  known  them,  it  would 
have  made  little  difference,  because  our  sentries  were 
so  lax  that  the  camp  was  always  swarming  with 
strangers.  Women  came  to  see  their  husbands  or 
sweethearts.  Boys  came  out  of  love  of  mischief.  Men 
came  out  of  curiosity,  or  out  of  some  wish  to  see  things 
before  they  decided  which  side  to  take.  Our  captains 
were  never  sure  at  night  how  many  of  their  men  would 
turn  up  at  muster  the  next  morning. 


I  SPEAK  WITH  AURELIA  227 

After  the  old  man  had  deserted,  I  sat  down  on  the 
high  ground  above  the  camp,  in  the  earthen  battery  where 
our  four  little  guns  were  mounted.  I  was  oppressed  with 
a  sad  feeling  that  we  were  all  marching  to  death.  The 
old  man's  words,  "we  shall  have  troops  all  round  us," 
rang  in  my  head,  till  I  could  have  cried.  My  mind 
was  full  of  terrible  imaginings.  I  saw  our  army  penned 
up  in  a  little  narrow  valley  where  the  roads  were  quag- 
mires, so  that  our  guns  were  stuck  in  the  mud,  our  horses 
up  to  their  knees,  our  men  floundering.  On  the  hills 
all  round  us  I  saw  the  King's  armies,  fifty  thousand 
strong,  marching  to  music  under  the  colours,  firing,  then 
wheeling,  forming  with  a  glint  of  pikes,  bringing  up 
guns  at  a  gallop,  shooting  us  down,  while  we  in  the  mud 
tried  to  form.  I  knew  that  the  end  of  it  all  would  be  a 
little  clump  of  men  round  the  Duke,  gathered  together 
on  a  hillock,  holding  out  to  the  last.  The  men  would 
be  dropping  as  the  shot  struck  them.  The  wounded 
would  waver,  letting  their  pike-points  drop.  Then 
there  would  come  a  whirling  of  cavalry,  horses'  eyes 
in  the  smoke,  bright  iron  horse-shoes  gleaming,  swords 
crashing  down  on  us,  an  eddy  of  battle  which  would  end 
in  a  hush  as  the  last  of  us  died.  I  saw  all  these  pictures 
in  my  brain,  as  clearly  as  one  sees  in  a  dream.  You  must 
not  wonder  that  I  looked  over  the  misty  fields  towards 
Newenham  Abbey  with  a  sort  of  longing  to  be  there, 
well  out  of  all  the  war.  It  was  only  a  mile  from  me. 
I  could  slip  away  so  easily.  I  was  not  bound  to  stay 


228  MARTIN   HYDE 

where  I  was,  to  share  in  the  misery  caused  by  my  leader's 
want  of  skill.  Then  I  remembered  how  my  father  had 
believed  in  the  right  of  the  Duke's  cause.  He  would 
have  counselled  me  to  stay,  I  thought.  It  seemed  to  me, 
in  the  dusk  of  the  night,  that  my  father  was  by  me, 
urging  me  to  stay.  The  thought  was  very  blessed;  it 
cleared  away  all  my  troubles  as  though  they  had  not 
been.  I  decided  to  look  no  more  towards  Newenham; 
but  to  go  on  by  the  Duke's  side  to  whatever  fortune  the 
wars  might  bring  us.  Somehow,  the  feeling  that  my 
father  was  by  me,  made  me  sure  that  we  were  marching 
to  victory.  I  went  to  my  quarters  comforted,  sure  of 
sleeping  contentedly. 

Like  the  rest  of  us,  I  had  to  sleep  in  the  open,  without 
any  more  shelter  than  a  horse-cloth.  Even  the  Duke 
was  without  a  tent  that  night.  He  slept  in  camp  with 
us,  to  set  an  example  to  his  men,  though  he  might  well 
have  gone  to  some  house  in  the  town.  I  liked  the  notion  of 
sleeping  out  in  the  open.  In  fine  warm  summer  weather, 
when  the  dew  is  not  too  heavy,  it  is  pleasant,  until  a 
little  before  the  dawn,  when  one  feels  uneasy,  for  some 
reason,  as  though  an  enemy  were  coming.  Perhaps 
our  savage  ancestors,  the  earliest  ancient  Britons,  who 
lived  in  hill-camps,  high  up,  with  their  cattle  round 
them,  expected  the  attacks  of  their  enemies  always  at 
a  little  before  the  dawn;  so  that,  in  time,  the  entire 
race  learned  to  be  wakeful  then,  lest  the  enemy  should 
catch  the  slumberers,  with  flint-axe  heads  in  the  skull. 


I  SPEAK   WITH  AURELIA  229 

It  may  be  that  to  this  day  we  feel  the  fear  felt  by  so 
many  generations  of  our  ancestors.  On  this  first  night 
in  camp,  I  found  that  many  of  the  men  were  sleeping 
uneasily,  for  they  did  not  know  the  secret  of  sleeping 
in  the  open.  They  did  not  know  that  to  sleep  comfort- 
ably in  the  open  one  must  dig  a  little  hole  in  the  ground, 
about  as  big  as  a  porridge  bowl,  to  receive  one's  hip- 
bone. If  you  do  this,  you  sleep  at  ease,  feeling  nothing 
of  the  hardness  of  the  bed.  If  you  fail  to  do  it,  you  wake 
all  bruised,  after  a  wretched  night's  tumbling;  you 
ache  all  the  next  day. 

After  grubbing  up  a  hollow  with  my  knife,  I  swathed 
myself  in  my  blanket  with  a  saddle  for  a  pillow.  I 
watched  the  stars  for  a  while,  as  they  drifted  slowly  over 
me.  The  horses  stamped,  shaking  their  picket-ropes. 
The  sentries  walked  their  rounds,  or  came  to  the  camp- 
fires  to  call  their  reliefs.  The  night  was  full  of  strange 
noises.  The  presence  of  so  many  sleeping  men  was 
strange.  It  was  very  beautiful,  very  solemn.  It 
gave  one  a  kind  of  awe  to  think  that  thus  so  many 
famous  armies  had  slept  before  the  battles  of  the 
world,  before  Pharsalia,  before  Chalons,  before  Hast- 
ings. Presently  the  murmuring  became  so  slight  that 
I  fell  asleep,  forgetting  everything,  only  turning  un- 
easily from  time  to  time,  to  keep  the  cool  night 
wind  from  blowing  on  my  cheeks  so  as  to  wake 
me. 

It  must  have  been  two  in  the  morning,  when  I  was 


230  MARTIN  HYDE 

wakened  by  some  armed  men,  evidently  our  sentries,  who 
rolled  me  over  without  ceremony. 

"Wake  up,  young  master,"  they  said,  grinning. 
"You'm  wanted.  You  be  to  get  up  to  go  a  errand. 
You  be  a  soldier  now.  You  does  your  sleeping  in  peace- 
times when  you  be  a  soldier."  I  sat  up  blinking  my 
eyes,  in  the  early  light,  thinking  how  nice  t'other  forty 
winks  would  be. 

"  Heigho,"  I  yawned.  "  All  right.  I'm  awake.  What 
is  it?  What's  the  matter?  " 

"  Lord  Grey  be  a  wanting  you,  young  master,"  said 
one  of  the  men.  "  Down  there,  where  them  horses  be 
in  the  road."  I  picked  myself  up  at  that,  wishing  for 
a  basin  of  water  into  which  I  might  shove  my  head. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  I  said.  "  Thank  you.  I'll  go  down."  I 
left  my  blanket  where  it  was,  as  I  expected  to  be  back 
in  a  few  minutes.  I  walked  down  hill  out  of  the  camp 
to  the  road  where  the  horses  stood;  there  were  four 
horses,  two  of  them  mounted.  The  mounted  men  were 
regular  country  bumpkins,  with  green  sprays  in  their 
hats,  like  the  rest  of  our  men;  but  their  horses  were 
pretty  good,  much  better  than  most  of  those  we  had. 
One  of  them  was  a  stocky  old  cob,  which  was  no  doubt 
to  be  mine.  The  other  was  a  beast  with  handsome 
harness  for  Lord  Grey.  "  Alas,"  I  thought.  "  No  more 
sleep  for  me.  I've  got  to  ride.  I  wonder  where  we  are 
going."  The  men  touched  their  hats  to  me;  for  as  I 
was  in  the  Duke's  retinue  I  was  much  respected.  Some 


I  SPEAK  WITH  AURELIA  231 

of  them  no  doubt  thought  I  was  a  princeling  or  little 
lord. 

"  Where  are  we  going?  "  I  asked  the  troopers. 

"  Going  scouting  out  towards  Colyton  yonder,  sir/' 
said  one  of  them.  "  Us  be  to  pick  up  his  Lordship  in 
the  town." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

I   MEET  THE   CLUB   MEN 

I  WONDERED  when  I  was  to  get  breakfast;  but  I 
knew  Lord  Grey  well  enough  to  know  that  he  was  not 
a  man  to  go  willingly  without  food  for  more  than  a 
few  hours  at  a  time.  Breakfast  I  should  have  presently, 
nor  would  it  be  skin-boiled  beef,  smelling  of  singed 
hair.  So  I  mounted  my  cob  with  a  good  will.  The  first 
trooper  rode  by  my  side,  the  other  waited  for  a  moment 
to  examine  the  feet  of  Lord  Grey's  charger.  He  trotted 
after  us,  leading  the  riderless  horse,  some  fifty  yards 
behind  us.  We  trotted  smartly  through  Axminster, 
where  we  set  the  dogs  barking.  People  sprang  from 
their  beds  when  they  heard  us,  fearing  that  we  were  an 
army  coming  to  fight.  We  cantered  out  of  the  town 
over  the  river,  heading  towards  a  hilly  country,  which 
had  few  houses  upon  it.  I  looked  back  after  leaving 
Axminster,  to  see  if  Lord  Grey  wanted  me.  He  had 
mounted  his  horse  somewhere  in  the  town;  but  he 
was  how  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  behind  us,  riding 
with  a  third  man,  whom  I  judged  to  be  Colonel  Foukes, 
by  his  broad  white  regimental  scarf.  After  we  had 
gone  a  few  miles,  we  came  to  a  cross-roads  where  my 
guide  bade  me  halt  to  wait  for  orders.  The  others  had 


I  MEET  THE  CLUB  MEN  233 

pulled  up,  too.  I  could  see  Lord  Grey  examining  a 
map,  while  his  horse  sidled  about  across  the  road.  The 
trooper  who  had  been  riding  with  him,  joined  us  after 
a  while,  telling  us  to  take  the  road  to  our  right,  which 
would  take  us,  he  said,  towards  Taunton.  We  were 
to  keep  our  eyes  skinned,  he  said,  for  any  sign  of  armed 
men  coming  on  the  high-road  from  Honiton,  so  as  to 
threaten  our  left  flank.  The  gentlemen  were  going  to 
scout  towards  the  sea.  At  eight  o'clock,  if  we  had 
seen  no  trace  of  any  armed  force  coming,  we  were  to 
make  for  Chard,  where  we  should  find  the  Duke's  army. 
We  were  to  examine  the  roads  for  any  signs  of  troops 
having  passed  recently  towards  Taunton.  We  were  to 
enquire  of  the  country  people,  if  troops  were  abroad 
in  that  countryside,  what  troops  they  might  be,  how 
led,  how  equipped,  etc.  If  we  came  across  any  men 
anxious  to  join  the  Duke  we  were  to  send  them  on  to 
Chard  or  Ilminster,  on  the  easterly  road  to  Taunton. 
We  were  to  ride  without  our  green  boughs,  he  said; 
so  before  starting  on  our  road  we  flung  them  into  the 
ditches.  Lord  Grey  waved  his  hand  to  us,  as  he  turned 
away  with  his  friend.  We  took  off  our  hats  in  reply, 
hardly  in  a  soldierly  salute;  then  we  set  off  at  a  walk 
along  the  Taunton  road.  It  is  a  lonely  road  leading 
up  to  the  hills,  a  straight  Roman  road,  better  than  any 
roads  laid  in  England  at  that  time;  but  a  road  which 
strikes  horror  into  one,  the  country  through  which  it 
runs  is  so  bleak. 


234  MARTIN  HYDE 

By  about  six  o'clock  (according  to  one  of  the  troopers, 
who  judged  by  the  height  of  the  sun)  we  were  in  a 
clump  of  firs  high  up  on  a  hill,  looking  over  a  vast 
piece  of  eastern  Devon.  We  had  scouted  pretty  closely 
all  round  Honiton,  examining  the  country  people, 
without  hearing  of  any  troops.  We  were  now  looking 
out  for  some  gleam  upon  a  road,  some  rising  of  dust 
over  a  hedge,  some  scattering  of  birds  even,  any  sign 
of  men  advancing,  which  might  be  examined  more 
closely.  The  morning  was  bright;  but  the  valleys  had 
mist  upon  them,  which  would  soon  turn  to  the  quivering 
blue  June  heat-haze.  The  land  lay  below  us,  spread 
out  in  huge  folds;  the  fields,  all  different  colours, 
looked  like  the  counties  on  a  map ;  we  could  see  the  sea, 
we  could  see  the  gleam  of  a  little  river.  We  could  see 
Axminster  far  to  the  east  of  us;  but  the  marching  army 
was  out  of  sight,  somewhere  on  the  Chard  high-road. 
After  scanning  pretty  well  all  round  us,  I  caught  sight 
of  moving  figures  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  combes  to 
south  of  us.  We  all  looked  hard  at  the  place,  trying  to 
make  out  more  of  them.  They  were  nearly  a  mile 
from  us.  They  seemed  to  be  standing  there  as  sentries. 
At  first  we  thought  that  they  must  be  people  with  Lord 
Grey;  but  as  we  could  see  no  horses  we  decided  that 
they  could  not  be.  One  of  the  men  said  that  as  far 
as  he'd  heard  tell  like,  the  combe  on  which  they  stood 
was  what  they  call  a  camp,  where  soldiers  lived  in  the 
old  time.  He  didn't  know  much  more  about  it;  but 


I  MEET  THE  CLUB  MEN  23£ 

he  said  that  he  thought  we  ought  to  examine  it,  like, 
before  riding  on  to  some  inn  where  we  could  breakfast. 
The  other  man  seemed  to  think  so,  too;  but  when  we 
came  to  talk  over  the  best  way  of  doing  our  espials, 
we  were  puzzled.  We  should  be  seen  at  once  if  we  went 
to  them  directly.  We  might  be  suspected  if  we  ap- 
proached them  on  horseback.  If  the  men  went,  they 
might  be  detained,  because,  for  all  that  we  knew,  the 
combe  might  be  full  of  militia.  So  I  said  that  I  had 
better  go,  since  no  one  would  suspect  a  boy.  To  this 
the  men  raised  a  good  many  objections,  looking  at 
each  other  suspiciously,  plainly  asking  questions  with 
their  raised  eyebrows.  I  thought  at  the  time  that  they 
were  afraid  of  sending  me  into  a  possible  danger,  be- 
cause I  was  a  servant  attached  to  the  Duke's  person. 
However,  when  I  said  that  I  would  go  on  foot,  taking 
all  precautions,  they  agreed  grudgingly  to  let  me  go. 

I  crept  along  towards  this  combe  on  foot,  as  though 
I  were  going  bird's  nesting.  I  beat  along  by  the  hedges, 
keeping  out  of  sight  behind  them,  till  I  was  actually 
on  the  combe's  north  slope,  climbing  up  to  the  old 
earthwork  on  the  top.  I  took  care  to  climb  the  slope 
at  a  place  where  there  was  no  sentry,  which  was,  of 
course,  not  only  the  steepest  bit  of  the  hill  but  covered 
with  gorse  clumps,  through  which  I  could  scarcely 
thrust  my  way.  Up  towards  the  top  the  gorse  was  less 
plentiful;  there  were  immense  foxgloves,  ferns,  little 
marshy  tufts  where  rushes  grew,  little  spots  of  wet 


236  MARTIN  HYDE 

bright  green  moss.  Yellow-hammers  drawled  their  pretty 
tripping  notes  to  me,  not  starting  away,  even  when  I 
passed  close  to  them.  All  the  beauty  of  June  was  on 
the  earth  that  day;  the  beauty  of  everything  in  that 
intense  blue  haze  was  wonderful. 

The  top  of  the  combe  was  very  steep,  steeper  than 
any  of  the  ascent,  because  it  had  been  built  up  like  an 
outer  wall  by  the  savages  who  once  lived  there  with 
their  cattle.  I  could  see  just  the  bare  steep  wall  of  the 
rampart  standing  up  in  a  dull  green  line  of  short-grassed 
turf  against  the  sky,  now  burning  with  the  intense  blue 
of  summer.  One  hard  quick  scramble,  with  my  finger- 
nails dug  into  the  ground,  brought  my  head  to  the  top 
of  the  rampart,  beyond  which  I  could  see  nothing  but 
great  ferns,  a  forest  of  great  ferns,  already  four  or  five 
feet  high,  stretching  away  below,  into  the  cup  of  the 
camp  or  citadel.  I  did  not  dare  to  stand  up,  lest  I 
should  be  seen.  I  burrowed  my  way  among  the  ferns 
over  the  wall  into  the  hollow,  worming  my  way  towards 
the  edge  of  the  fern  clump  so  that  I  could  see.  In  a 
minute,  I  was  gazing  through  the  fern-stems  into  the 
camp  itself;  it  was  a  curious  sight. 

About  fifty  people  (some  of  them  women)  were  sitting 
about  a  hollow  in  the  ground,  which  I  guessed  to  be  a 
sort  of  smokeless  fireplace  or  earth-oven.  Everywhere 
else,  all  over  the  hollow  of  the  camp,  which  must  have 
been  a  full  three  hundred  yards  across,  were  various 
kinds  of  farm-stock,  mostly  cattle,  though  there  were 


I  MEET  THE  CLUB  MEN  237 

many  picketed  horses,  too.  At  first  I  thought  that  I 
had  climbed  into  a  camp  of  gipsies,  which  gave  me  a 
scare;  for  gipsies  then  were  a  wild  lot,  whom  wise  folk 
avoided.  Then,  as  I  glanced  about,  I  saw  a  sentry 
standing  not  thirty  yards  from  me,  but  well  above  me, 
on  the  rampart  top.  He  was  no  gipsy.  He  was  an 
ordinary  farmer's  lad,  with  the  walk  of  a  ploughman. 
His  sleeves,  which  were  rolled  back,  showed  me  a  sun- 
burnt pair  of  arms,  such  as  no  gipsy  ever  had.  What 
puzzled  me  about  him  was  his  heavy  double-barrelled 
pistol,  which  he  carried  in  his  right  hand,  with  something 
of  a  military  cock,  yet  as  though  awed  by  it.  He  was 
not  over  sure  of  that  same  pistol.  I  could  see  that  he 
confounded  it  in  some  way  with  art-magic. 

Then  I  remembered  what  the  old  soldier  had  said 
the  night  before  about  club  men.  This  camp  must  be 
a  camp  of  club  men,  I  thought.  They  had  come  there 
to  protect  their  stock  from  the  rapine  of  our  vile  pillagers, 
who  had  spread  such  terror  amongst  the  farmers  the 
day  before.  Perched  up  on  the  combe,  with  sentries 
always  on  the  look-out,  they  could  see  the  Duke's 
raiders  long  before  they  came  within  gunshot.  If  an 
armed  force  had  tried  to  rush  the  camp,  after  learning 
that  the  beasts  were  shut  up  within  it  (which,  by  the 
way,  no  man  could  possibly  suspect  until  he  saw  them 
from  the  rampart  top),  the  few  defenders  clubbed 
together  there  could  have  kept  them  out  without  diffi- 
culty; for  there  was  only  one  narrow  entrance  to  the 


238  MARTIN  HYDE 

camp,  so  constructed  that  any  one  entering  by  it  could 
be  shot  at  from  three  sides,  if  not  from  all  four.  I 
looked  about  me  carefully  from  my  hiding-place,  till 
I  decided  that  I  could  get  a  better  view  from  another 
part  of  the  fern  clump.  I  began  to  wriggle  through  the 
thick,  sweet-scented  stalks,  towards  the  heart  of  the 
camp,  going  with  infinite  care,  so  as  not  to  break  down 
the  fern  into  a  path.  I  hoped  to  make  no  more  stir 
among  the  fern-tops  than  would  be  made  by  one  of  the 
many  pigs  scattering  about  in  the  enclosure. 

While  I  was  crawling  along  in  this  way,  I  suddenly 
heard  a  curious  noise  from  an  intensely  thick  part  of 
the  fern  in  front  of  me.  It  was  a  clinking  noise,  followed 
by  a  sort  of  dry  rasping,  as  though  a  very  big  person 
were  gritting  his  teeth  very  hard.  It  stopped  suddenly, 
but  soon  began  again.  I  thought  that  it  must  be  some 
one  mending  harness  with  a  file,  or  perhaps  some  old 
sheep  or  cow,  with  the  remnants  of  a  bell  about  her 
neck,  licking  a  stone  for  salt.  As  I  was  in  an  adventure, 
I  thought  that  I  would  see  it  out  to  the  end;  for  I  was 
enjoying  my  morning.  In  spite  of  the  want  of  breakfast 
I  felt  very  like  a  red  Indian  or  a  pirate,  creeping  through 
the  jungle  to  the  sack  of  a  treasure  train.  So  I  wormed 
on  towards  the  noise.  As  I  came  near  to  it,  I  went  more 
cautiously,  because  in  one  of  the  pauses  of  the  noise, 
I  heard  a  muttered  curse,  which  told  me  that  the  unseen 
noise-maker  was  a  man.  If  I  had  been  wise  I  should 
have  stopped  there;  for  I  had  learned  all  that  I  came 


I  MEET  THE  CLUB  MEN  239 

out  to  learn.  But  I  was  excited  now.  I  wished  to 
see  everything,  before  creeping  away  unseen  to  make 
my  report.  Perhaps  I  wished  to  see  something  which 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  club  men,  a  private  main  of 
cocks,  say,  or  a  dog,  or  bull-baiting,  carried  on  with 
some  of  the  squire's  creatures,  but  without  his  knowl- 
edge. I  had  a  half  wish  that  I  might  have  something 
of  the  kind  to  report;  because  in  my  heart  I  longed  to 
say  nothing  to  any  of  the  Duke's  party  which  might 
lead  to  the  ruin  of  these  poor  people  who  were  trying 
so  hard  to  protect  their  property. 

A  few  feet  further  on,  I  was  wishing  most  heartily 
that  I  had  never  left  my  room  in  London.  It  was  like 
this.  In  the  very  heart  of  the  fern  clump,  where  the 
ferns  were  tallest,  a  little  spring-  bubbled  out  of  the 
ground,  at  the  rate,  I  suppose,  of  a  pint  of  water  in  a 
minute.  The  ferns  grew  immensely  thick  there;  but 
someone  had  thinned  out  a  few  of  the  roots  from  the 
ground,  leaving  the  uprooted  plant  with  the  ferns  still 
living,  to  form  a  rough  kind  of  thatch  above  a  piece 
of  earth  big  enough  for  a  man's  body.  In  the  scented 
shade  of  this  thatch,  with  the  side  of  his  face  turned 
towards  me,  a  big,  rough,  bearded  man  sat,  filing  away 
some  bright  steel  irons  which  were  riveted  on  his  ankles. 
He  swore  continually  in  a  low  whisper  as  he  worked, 
not  even  pausing  in  his  curses  when  he  spat  on  to  the 
hollow  scraped  in  the  irons  by  his  file.  He  was  the 
fiercest  looking  savage  of  a  man  I  have  ever  seen.  His 


240  MARTIN  HYDE 

face  had  a  look  of  stern,  gloomy  cruelty  which  I  shall 
never  forget.  His  general  appearance  was  terrible;  for 
he  had  a  face  burnt  almost  black  by  the  sun  (some  of  it 
may  have  been  mud)  with  a  nasty  white  scar  running 
irregularly  all  down  his  left  cheek,  along  the  throat  to  the 
shoulder.  He  was  not  what  you  might  call  naked.  A 
naked  man,  such  as  I  have  seen  since  in  the  hot  coun- 
tries, would  have  looked  a  nobleman  beside  him.  He 
wore  a  pair  of  dirty  linen  knickerbockers,  all  frayed  into 
ribbons  at  the  knees,  a  pair  of  strong  hide  slippers  bound 
to  his  ankles  by  strips  of  leather,  a  part  of  a  filthy  red 
shirt  without  sleeves,  a  hat  stolen  from  a  scarecrow, 
nothing  else  whatever,  except  the  mud  of  many  days' 
gathering.  His  shirt  was  torn  all  down  the  back  in  a 
great  slit  which  he  had  tried  to  secure  by  what  the 
sailors  call  "  Bristol  buttons,"  i.  e.  pieces  of  string.  The 
red  flannel  hung  from  him  so  as  to  show  his  back,  all 
criss-crossed  with  flogging  scars.  I  knew  at  once  from 
the  irons  that  he  was  a  criminal  escaped  from  gaol;  but 
the  criss-crossed  scars  taught  me  that  he  was  a  criminal 
of  the  most  terrible  kind,  probably  one  who  had  shipped 
into  the  Navy  to  avoid  hanging. 

I  took  in  a  view  of  him  before  he  saw  me.  His  image 
was  stamped  on  my  brain  in  less  than  ten  seconds.  In 
the  eleventh  second,  I  was  lying  on  my  back  in  the 
gloom  of  the  fern-growth,  with  this  great  ruffian  on  my 
chest,  squeezing  me  by  my  windpipe.  I  cannot  say 
that  he  spoke  to  me.  It  was  not  speech.  It  was  the 


I  MEET  THE  CLUB  MEN  241 

snarling  wild  beast  gurgle  which  passes  for  speech  in 
the  slums  of  our  great  cities,  as  though  all  the  filth  of 
a  low  nature  were  choking  in  the  throat  at  once.  He 
was  on  me  too  quickly  for  me  to  cry  out.  I  could  only 
lie  still,  cackling  for  breath,  while  the  fierce  face  glowered 
down  on  me.  I  understood  him  to  say  that  he  would 
have  my  windpipe  out  if  I  said  a  word.  I  suppose  he 
saw  that  I  was  only  a  very  frightened  boy;  for  his 
clutch  upon  me  relaxed,  after  a  few  awful,  gasping 
moments.  When  he  loosed  his  hold,  his  great  hand 
pawed  over  my  throat  till  he  had  me  by  the  scruff  of 
the  neck.  He  drew  me  over  towards  the  spring,  as  one 
would  draw  a  puppy.  Then,  still  crouching  in  the  fern, 
he  hurried  me  to  a  single  stunted  sloe-bush  which 
grew  there.  "  Go  down,  you,"  he  said,  giving  me  a 
shove  towards  the  bush.  "  Down  th'  7ole." 

Just  behind  the  sloe-bush,  under  a  fringe  of  immense 
ferns,  was  an  opening  in  the  earth,  about  eighteen 
inches  high,  by  two  feet  across.  It  was  like  a  large 
rabbit  or  fox  earth,  except  that  the  mouth  of  it  was  not 
worn  bare.  I  did  not  like  the  thought  of  going  down 
th'  'ole;  but  with  this  great  griping  fist  on  my  nape 
there  was  not  much  sense  in  saying  so.  I  wormed  my 
way  in,  helped  on  by  prods  from  the  file.  It  was  a 
melancholy  moment  when  my  head  passed  beyond  the 
last  filtering  of  light  into  the  tomb's  blackness,  where 
not  even  insects  lived.  After  a  moment  of  scrambling 
I  found  that  the  passage  was  big  enough  for  me  to  go 


242  MARTIN  HYDE 

on  all  fours.  It  was  a  dry  passage,  too,  which  seemed 
strange  to  me;  but  on  reaching  out  with  my  hand  I 
felt  that  the  walls  were  lined  with  well  laid  stones, 
unmortared.  The  roof  above  me  was  also  of  stone. 
You  may  wonder  why  I  did  not  shoot  this  ruffian  with 
my  pistol.  You  boys  think  that  if  you  had  a  pistol 
you  would  shoot  any  one  who  threatened  you.  You 
would  not.  When  the  moment  comes,  it  is  not  so  easily 
disposed  of.  Besides,  a  filthy,  cursing  pirate  on  your 
throat  checks  your  natural  calm  most  strangely. 

The  passage  led  into  the  swell  of  the  rampart  for 
about  twenty  yards,  where  it  opened  into  a  dimly 
lighted  chamber  about  four  feet  high.  A  little  blink  of 
light  came  through  a  rabbit  hole,  at  the  end  of  which  I 
saw  a  spray  of  gorse  with  the  sunlight  on  it.  I  could 
see  by  the  dim  light  that  the  chamber  was  built  of 
unmortared  stones,  very  cleverly  laid.  The  floor  of  it 
was  greasier  than  the  passage  had  been,  but  still  it  was 
not  damp.  On  one  side  it  had  a  bed  of  heather  stalks, 
on  the  other  there  was  something  dark  which  felt  like 
cold  meat.  The  man  came  grunting  in  behind  me, 
clinking  his  leg-irons.  After  groping  about  in  a  corner 
of  the  room  he  lighted  a  stinking  rushlight  by  means  of 
a  tinder  box. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  SQUIRE'S  HOUSE 

"  THERE,"  he  said,  not  unkindly,  "  there's  a  nice 
little  'ome  for  yer.  Now  you,  tell  me  wot  you  were 
doing  spying  on  me.  First  of  all,  'ave  you  any  money?  " 
He  did  not  wait  for  me  to  answer,  but  dug  his  hands  into 
my  pockets  at  once,  taking  every  penny  I  had,  except 
a  few  shillings  which  were  hidden  hi  my  belt.  He  did 
not  see  my  belt,  as  I  had  taken  to  wearing  it  next  my 
skin,  since  I  began  to  follow  the  wars.  I  feared  from 
the  greed  which  showed  in  all  his  movements  that 
he  was  going  to  strip  me;  but  he  did  not  do  so,  thinking, 
no  doubt,  that  none  of  my  clothes  would  fit  his  body. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  in  his  snarling  beast  voice,  "  wot's 
up  'ere,  with  all  these  folk  brought  their  beasts  'ere?  " 

I  told  him  that  the  Duke  had  come  to  fight  for  the 
crown  of  England,  with  the  result,  as  I  supposed,  that 
the  country  people  dared  not  trust  their  live-stock 
at  home,  for  fear  of  having  them  pillaged.  He  seemed 
pleased  at  the  news;  but  being  an  utter  wild  beast,  far 
less  civilized  than  the  lowest  savage  ever  known  to 
me,  he  showed  his  pleasure  by  hoping  that  the  rich 
(whom  he  cursed  fluently)  might  have  their  heads 


244  MARTIN  HYDE 

pulled  off  in  the  war,  while  as  for  the  poor  (the  farmers 
close  by  us)  he  hoped  that  they  might  lose  every  beast 
they  owned.  "  Do  'em  good,"  he  said.  "  Now/'  he 
went  on.  "  Are  you  come  spying  'ere  along  of  the  farm- 
ers? " 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  am  a  servant  of  the  Duke's,  riding 
out  to  look  for  the  militia." 

"  Ah,"  he  said.  "  Are  yer,  cocky?  'Ow'm  I  tojmow 
that?  " 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  Look  at  my  hands.  Are  they  the 
hands  of  a  farmer?  " 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  No,  Mister  stuck-up  flunkey,  they 
ain't.  I  s'pose  yer  proud  of  yer  'ands.  I'll  'ave  yer 
wait  at  table  on  me."  He  seemed  to  like  the  notion: 
for  he  repeated  it  many  times,  while  he  dug  out  hunks 
of  cold  ham  with  his  file,  from  the  meat  which  I  had 
felt  as  I  crawled  in. 

"  'Ow  proud  I  dig 
A 'unk  a  cold  pig  " 

he  sang,  as  he  gulped  the  pieces  down.  It  was  partly 
a  nightmare,  partly  very  funny.  I  was  not  sure  if  he 
was  mad,  probably  he  was  mad,  but  being  down  in  the 
burrow  there,  in  the  half  darkness,  hearing  that  song, 
made  me  feel  that  I  was  mad;  it  was  all  a  very  terrible 
joke;  perhaps  madness  affects  people  like  that.  At 
last  I  spoke  to  him  again. 

"  Sir,"  I  said,  "  I've  been  up  since  two  this  morning. 
Give  me  a  hunk  of  cold  pig,  too.  I'm  half-starved." 


THE  SQUIRE'S  HOUSE  245 

"  'Elp  yourself,  can't  yer?  "  he  snarled.  "  Oo'm  I 
to  wait  on  yer?  "  Then,  very  cunningly,  he  put  in, 
"  'Ave  you  got  a  knife  on  yer?  " 

"  No,"  I  said  cautiously,  "  I've  got  no  knife,"  which 
was  a  lie;  I  did  not  wish  my  knife  to  go  the  same  way 
as  the  money.  He  gave  me  some  cold  pig,  very  excellent 
ham  it  was,  too,  for  which  I  was  very  thankful.  He 
watched  my  greediness  with  satisfaction.  I  ate  heartily 
when  I  saw  that  my  confident  way  with  him  had  made 
him  more  tender  towards  me. 

"  Yes/'  he  snorted.  "  Per'aps  you  ain't  been  lying 
to  me  after  all.  Now  'ow  long  will  these  blokes  b<3  up 
the  'ill  'ere?  "  I  did  not  know  that;  but  I  supposed 
that  they  would  go  home  directly  the  Duke's  army 
had  got  as  far,  say,  as  Taunton.  "  But,"  I  added,  "  the 
Duke  may  be  beaten.  If  he's  beaten,  all  this  part  will 
be  full  of  troops  beating  every  bush  for  the  rebels." 
He  swore  at  this;  but  his  curses  were  only  designed  to 
hide  his  terror. 

"  Could  a  fellow  get  to  sea,"  he  said  in  a  whining  tone. 
"  Could  a  poor  fellow  in  trouble  slip  away  to  sea,  now,  at 
one  of  these  seaport  towns?  Boy,  I  been  livin'  like  a 
wild  beast  all  the  way  from  Bristol,  this  two  months.  I 
didn't  kill  the  feller;  not  dead.  The  knife  only  went  into 
'im  a  very  little  way,  not  more'n  a  inch.  I  was  raised 
near  'ere  at  a  farm.  So  I  knowed  of  this  'ere  burrow. 
I  got  'ere  two  days  ago,  pretty  near  dead.  Now  I 
been  penned  up  from  the  sea  by  these  farmers  comin' 


246  MARTIN  HYDE 

'ere,  doin'  swottin'  sentry-go  all  round  me.  I  tell  yer, 
I'll  cut  up  sour,  if  they  pen  me  in,  now  I'm  so  near  got 
away.  I  been  with  Avery.  They  call  Avery  a  pirate. 
They  said  I  was  a  pirate.  It's  'anging  if  they  ketch  me. 
Do  yer  think  I  could  get  away  to  Lyme  or  some  place, 
to  get  took  into  a  ship?  "  I  told  him,  no;  because  I 
knew  from  what  Lord  Grey  had  told  me,  that  the  Chan- 
nel was  full  of  men-of-war  searching  every  ship  which 
hove  in  sight;  besides,  he  did  not  look  to  me  to  be  a 
very  promising  hand  for  a  captain  to  take  aboard. 

"  All  the  same/'  he  said,  "  I  got  to  risk  it.  You  say 
there  may  be  troops  coming?  " 

"  As  for  that,"  I  answered,  "  The  troops  may  be 
here  at  any  moment  from  Exeter  or  Honiton.  They've 
arrested  hundreds  of  people  everywhere  around.  You'd 
better  stay  in  the  burrow  here."  He  did  not  pay  much 
attention  to  what  I  said.  He  cursed  violently,  as  thojjgh 
he  were  a  bag-pipe  full  of  foul  words  being  slowly 
squeezed  by  some  player.  At  last  he  crawled  to  the 
passage,  foaming  out  incoherently  that  he  would  show 
them,  he  would,  let  them  just  wait. 

"  You  stay  'ere,"  he  said.  "HI  find  you  fol- 
lerin'  me,  I'll  mash  your  'ed  into  that  much  slobber." 
He  showed  me  a  short  piece  of  rope  which  he  had 
twisted,  sailor  fashion,  so  as  to  form  a  handle  for 
a  jagged  piece  of  flint,  which,  as  I  could  see,  had  been 
used  on  some  one  or  something  quite  recently. 

"  Mogador  Jack,"  he  said,  "  'e  don't  like  people  fol- 


THE  SQUIRE'S  HOUSE  247 

With  that  he  left  me  alone  in  the  burrow, 
wondering,  now  that  it  was  over,  why  he  had  not  killed 
me.  He  left  me  quite  stunned;  his  sudden  coming  into 
my  life  had  been  so  strange.  It  was  unreal,  like  a  dream, 
to  have  been  in  an  ancient  Briton's  burial-chamber  with 
a  mad  old  pirate  who  had  committed  murder.  But 
now  that  he  had  gone,  I  was  eager  to  go,  too,  if  it  could 
be  managed.  I  would  not  stay  there  till  the  brute  came 
back,  in  spite  of  that  flint  club.  After  waiting  some 
little  time,  during  which,  I  felt  sure,  he  was  waiting 
for  me  at  the  door  of  the  burrow,  I  took  out  my  pistol. 
I  examined  the  charge  to  see  that  all  was  well;  then 
very  cautiously,  I  began  to  crawl  up  the  passage,  with 
my  pistol  in  my  hand. 

I  waited  for  some  minutes  near  the  door,  trying  to 
convince  myself  by  the  lie  of  the  shadows  outside  that 
he  was  crouched  there,  ready  for  me.  But  it  seemed  safe. 
I  could  see  no  shadow  at  all  except  the  tremulous  fern- 
shadows.  At  last  I  took  off  my  coat  as  a  blind.  I  flung 
it  through  the  doorway,  with  some  force,  to  see  if  it 
would  draw  him  from  his  hiding.  Nothing  happened. 
The  ruffian  did  not  pounce  upon  it.  I  took  a  few  long 
breaths  to  hearten  me;  it  was  now  or  never.  I  shut 
my  eyes,  praying  that  the  first  two  blows  might  miss  my 
head,  so  that  I  should  have  time  to  fire.  Then,  on  my 
back,  with  my  pistol  raised  over  my  head,  I  forced 
myself  out  with  every  muscle  in  my  body.  I  leaped 
to  my  feet  on  the  instant,  quickly  glancing  round  for 


248  MARTIN  HYDE 

the  madman,  swinging  my  pistol  about  with  my  finger 
hard  on  the  trigger.  He  was  not  there,  after  all.  I 
might  have  spared  myself  the  trouble.  I  was  alone 
there  in  the  fern,  within  earshot  of  a  murmur  of  voices, 
talking  excitedly.  I  was  not  going  to  spy  into  any 
more  secrets.  I  was  going  to  get  out  of  that  camp, 
cost  what  it  might.  I  made  one  rush  through  the  fern 
in  the  direction  of  the  rampart,  shoving  the  stalks 
aside,  as  a  bull  knocks  through  jungle  in  Campeachy. 
In  thirty  steps  I  was  clear  of  the  fern,  charging  slap 
into  a  group  of  people  who  were  giving  brandy  to  the 
sentry,  whom  I  had  passed  but  a  little  while  before. 
He  was  bleeding  from  a  broken  wound  on  his  pretty 
hard  Saxon  skull.  He  was  not  badly  hurt,  for  he  was 
swearing  lustily;  but  he  had  been  stunned  just  long 
enough  for  my  pirate  man  to  strip  him.  He  was  dressed 
now  in  a  pair  of  leather  gaiters,  all  the  rest  of  his  things 
had  been  taken,  the  pistol  with  them.  I  saw  all  this 
at  a  glance,  as  I  charged  in  among  them.  I  took  it  all 
in,  guessing  in  one  swift  gleam  of  comprehension, 
exactly  what  had  happened  there,  as  my  pirate  made 
his  rush  for  freedom.  There  was  no  time  to  ask  if  my 
guess  were  right  or  not. 

"  Out  of  my  way/'  I  shouted,  shoving  my  pistol 
towards  the  nearest  of  the  group.  "  Out  of  my  way, 
or  I  shall  fire."  They  made  way  for  me.  I  charged 
down  hill  by  the  way  I  had  come.  Some  one  cried 
"  Stop  en."  Another  shouted  "  Shoot  en,  maister." 


THE  SQUIRE'S  HOUSE  249 

There  came  a  great  bang  of  a  gun  over  my  head. 
But  I  was  going  down  hill  like  a  rabbit,  into  the 
gorse,  into  the  bracken,  into  the  close  cover  of  the 
heath.  Glancing  back,  I  saw  a  dozen  excited  people 
rushing  down  the  rampart  after  me.  Some  flung  stones ; 
some  ran  to  catch  horses  to  chase  me.  But  I  had  the 
start  of  them.  I  was  down  the  hill,  over  the  hedge, 
in  the  lane,  in  no  time.  There,  a  hundred  yards  away, 
I  saw  my  friends  the  troopers  leading  my  cob.  I  shouted 
to  them.  They  heard  me.  They  came  up  to  me  at  a 
gallop.  In  ten  seconds  more  we  were  sailing  away 
together. 

"  You  been  getting  into  scrapes,  master,"  said  one 
of  the  troopers.  "  You  doan't  want  to  meddle  with 
the  folk  in  these  parts." 

"  No,"  said  the  other,  with  a  touch  of  insolence  in 
his  voice.  "  So  your  master  may  find,  one  of  these  fine 
days."  Being  mindful  of  the  Duke's  honour,  I  told  the 
man  to  mind  his  own  business,  which  he  said  he  meant 
to  do,  without  asking  my  opinion.  After  that  we  rode 
on  together  a  little  heated,  till  we  were  out  of  sight  of 
the  combe,  where  I  had  had  such  a  startling  adventure. 

After  another  hour  of  riding,  we  pulled  up  at  the 
garden  gate  of  an  old  grey  handsome  house  which  stood 
at  some  distance  from  the  road.  I  asked  one  of  the 
troopers  who  lived  in  this  house.  He  said  that  it  was 
an  old  Abbey,  which  belonged  to  Squire;  but  that 
we  were  to  leave  word  there  of  the  Duke's  movements, 


250  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  for  Squire  be  very  Cached  to  the  Protestants;  besides 
he'll  give  us  a  breakfast.  Sure  to."  We  left  our  horses 
at  the  gate  while  we  walked  up  to  the  house.  A 
pretty  girl,  who  seemed  to  know  one  of  the  men,  told 
us  to  come  in,  while  she  got  breakfast  for  us.  "  Squire," 
she  said,  "  would  be  glad  to  hear  what  was  going  on; 
for  he  was  that  given  up  to  the  soldiers  we  couldn't 
hardly  believe."  We  were  shown  down  a  long  flagged 
corridor  to  a  little  cool  room  which  looked  as  though 
it  had  once  been  the  abbot's  cell.  It  had  a  window 
in  it,  looking  out  upon  a  garden  in  full  flower,  a  little 
rose  garden,  covered  with  those  lovely  bushes  of  old 
English  red  single  roses,  the  most  beautiful  flower  in 
the  world.  The  window  was  large,  but  the  space  of 
it  was  broken  up  by  stone  piers,  so  that  no  pane  of 
glass  was  more  than  six  inches  wide.  I  mention  this 
now,  because  of  what  happened  later.  There  was  not 
much  furniture  in  the  room;  but  what  there  was  was 
very  good.  There  was  an  old  Dutch  pewter  jug,  full 
of  sweet-williams,  on  the  table.  On  the  wall  there  was 
a  picture  of  a  Spanish  gentleman  on  a  cream-coloured, 
fat  handsome  little  horse.  Together  they  looked  very 
like  Don  Quixote  out  for  a  ride  with  his  squire.  The 
two  troopers  left  me  in  this  room,  while  they  went  off 
to  the  kitchen.  Presently  the  servant  came  in  again, 
bringing  me  a  noble  dish  of  breakfast,  a  pigeon  pie,  a 
ham,  a  jar  of  preserved  quince,  a  honeycomb,  a  great 
household  loaf,  newly  baked,  a  big  quart  jug  full  of 


THE  SQUIRE'S  HOUSE  251 

small  beer.  I  made  a  very  honest  meal.  After  eating, 
I  examined  the  room.  There  was  tapestry  over  one 
part  of  the  wall.  It  concealed  a  little  low  door  which 
led  to  what  had  once  been  the  abbot's  fishpond,  now  a 
roofed-in  bath-house,  where  one  could  plunge  into 
eight  feet  or  so  of  (bitterly  cold)  spring  water.  This 
bath-house  was  some  steps  lower  than  the  little  dining 
room.  It  was  lighted  by  a  skylight  directly  over  the  bath. 
It  had  no  other  window  whatever.  After  examining  the 
bath,  wishing  that  I  had  known  of  it  before  eating,  I 
went  back  to  the  dining  room,  where  the  servant  was 
clearing  away  the  food. 

"  I  hope  you  enjoyed  your  breakfast,  sir,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  thank  you,  very  much  indeed,"  I  answered. 

"  Squire  will  be  down  d'reckly,  sir,"  she  said.  "  If 
you  will  please  to  make  yourself  at  home."  I  made 
myself  at  home,  as  she  desired,  while  she,  after  a  few 
minutes,  took  away  the  soiled  plates,  leaving  all  the 
other  things  on  the  side-board,  ready  for  dinner.  I 
noticed  that  she  smiled  in  a  rather  strange  way  as  she 
drew  to  the  door  behind  her. 

I  loitered  away  about  half  an  hour,  waiting  for  the 
squire  to  come.  As  he  did  not  come,  I  turned  over  the 
books  on  the  shelves,  mostly  volumes  of  plays,  the 
Spanish  Tragedy,  the  Laws  of  Candy,  Love  lies  a 
Bleeding,  etc.,  four  plays  to  a  volume  in  buckram  covers. 
I  was  just  getting  tired  of  All  for  Love,  when  I  heard  a 
footstep  in  the  passage  outside.  I  thought  that  I 


252  MARTIN  HYDE 

would  ask  the  passenger,  whoever  it  might  be,  for  how 
much  longer  the  squire  would  keep  me  waiting.  I  was 
anxious  about  getting  back  to  the  army.  It  was  dan- 
gerous to  straggle  too  far  from  the  Duke's  camps  when 
unbeaten  armies  followed  on  both  his  wings.  So  I 
went  to  the  door  to  learn  my  fate  at  once.  To  my 
great  surprise  I  found  that  I  could  not  open  it.  It  was 
locked  on  the  outside.  The  great  heavy  iron  lock  had 
been  turned  upon  me.  I  was  a  prisoner  in  the  room 
there.  Thinking  that  it  had  been  done  carelessly,  I 
beat  upon  the  door  to  attract  the  man  who  passed  down 
the  passage,  calling  to  him  to  turn  the  key  for  me  so 
that  I  might  get  out.  The  footsteps  did  not  pause. 
They  passed  on,  down  the  corridor,  as  though  the  man 
were  deaf.  After  that  a  fury  came  upon  me.  I  beat 
upon  the  door  for  five  minutes  on  end,  till  the  house 
must  have  rung  with  the  clatter;  but  no  one  paid  any 
attention  to  me,  only,  far  away,  I  heard  a  woman 
giggling,  in  an  interval  when  I  had  paused  for  breath. 
The  door  was  a  heavy,  thick  oak  door,  bound  with  iron. 
The  lock  was  a  bar  of  steel  at  least  two  inches  thick; 
there  was  no  chance  of  getting  it  open.  Even  firing 
into  the  lock  with  my  little  pistol  would  not  have  helped 
me;  it  would  only  have  jammed  the  tongue  of  steel  in 
its  bed.  I  soon  saw  the  folly  of  trying  to  get  out  by  the 
door;  so  I  turned  to  the  window,  which  was  more 
difficult  still,  or,  if  not  more  difficult,  more  tantalizing, 
since  it  showed  me  the  free  garden  into  which  one  little 


THE  SQUIRE'S  HOUSE  253 

jump  would  suffice  to  carry  me.  But  the  closely  placed 
piers  of  stone  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  get  through 
the  window.  It  was  no  use  trying  to  do  so.  I  should 
only  have  stuck  fast,  midway.  I  began  at  once  to  pick 
out  the  mortar  of  the  pier  stones  with  my  knife  point. 
It  was  hopeless  work,  though,  for  the  old  monks  had 
used  some  cement  a  good  deal  harder  than  the 
stones  which  it  bound  together.  I  could  only  dig  away 
a  little  dust  from  its  surface.  That  way  also  was  barred 
to  me.  Then  I  went  down  to  the  bathing-chamber, 
hoping  that  there  would  be  some  way  of  escape  for  me 
there.  I  hoped  that  the  escape  pipe  of  the  bath  might 
be  a  great  stone  conduit  leading  to  a  fish-pond  in  the 
garden.  It  was  nothing  of  the  sort.  It  was  a  little 
miserable  leaden  pipe.  I  beat  all  round  the  walls, 
praying  for  some  secret -door,  but  there  was  nothing  of 
any  use  to  me,  only  a  little  iron  ventilator  high  up, 
big  enough  to  take  my  head,  but  nothing  more.  As 
for  the  skylight  over  the  bath,  it  was  beyond  my  reach, 
high  up.  For  the  moment  I  could  see  no  means  of  getting 
to  it.  I  went  back  to  the  dining  room  to  give  another 
useless  pounding  to  the  door.  My  head  was  full  of 
miserable  forebodings;  but  as  yet  I  suspected  merely 
that  I  had  been  caught  by  some  sudden  advance  of 
militia.  Or  perhaps  the  squire  had  laid  plans  to  get 
information  from  one  who  knew  the  Duke.  Perhaps 
I  had  been  lured  away  specially  by  one  hungry  for  the 
King's  good  opinion.  Or  could  it  be  Aurelia?  Whatever 


254  MARTIN  HYDE 

it  was,  I  was  trapped,  that  was  the  terrible  thing.  I 
was  shut  up  there  till  my  enemy,  whoever  it  was, 
chose  to  deal  with  me.  I  was  in  arms  against  the  ruling 
King  of  England;  everybody's  hand  would  be  against 
me,  unless  my  own  hands  helped  me  before  my  enemies 
came.  My  first  thought  was  to  get  the  table  down  the 
steps,  to  make  a  bridge  across  the  bath,  from  which  I 
could  reach  the  skylight.  This  I  could  not  do  at  first; 
for  being  much  flustered,  I  did  not  put  the  table-leaves 
down.  Until  I  knocked  them  down  in  my  hurry  they 
kept  me  from  dragging  the  table  from  the  dining  room. 
When  I  got  it  at  last  into  the  bath-room,  I  found  that 
it  would  not  stretch  across  the  water :  the  legs  were  too 
close  together,  as  I  might  have  seen  had  I  kept  my  wits 
about  me.  I  could  think  of  no  other  way  of  getting  out. 
I  went  back  disheartened  to  the  dining  room,  dragging 
my  coat  behind  me.  The  first  thing  which  I  saw  was 
a  letter  addressed  to  me  in  a  hand  already  known  to  me. 
The  letter  lay  on  the  floor  on  the  space  once  covered 
by  the  table.  As  it  had  not  been  there  when  I  dragged 
the  table  downstairs,  someone  must  have  entered  the 
room  while  I  was  away.  I  opened  the  letter  in  a  good 
deal  of  flurry.  It  ran  as  follows. 

"  DEAR  MARTIN  HYDE  : — As  you  will  not  take  a  sincere 
friend's  advice,  you  have  to  make  the  best  of  a  sincere 
adviser's  friendship.  You  did  me  a  great  service.  Let 
me  do  you  one.  I  hope  to  keep  you  an  amused  prisoner 


THE  SQUIRE'S  HOUSE  255 

until  your  captain  is  a  beaten  man.  By  about  three 
weeks  from  this  26th  of  June  we  shall  hope  to  have  made 
you  so  much  our  friend  that  you  will  not  think  of 
leaving  us.  May  I  make  a  compact  with  you?  Please 
do  not  shoot  me  with  that  pistol  of  yours  when  I  bring 
you  some  supper  tonight.  That  is  one  part  of  it.  The 
other  is  this.  Let  us  be  friends.  We  know  all  about  you. 
I  have  even  talked  to  Ephraim  about  you.  So  let  us 
make  it  up.  We  have  been  two  little  spitfires.  At 
any  rate  you  have.  Let  us  be  friends.  What  sorts  of 
books  do  you  like  to  read?  I  shall  bring  you  some 
story-books  about  ghosts,  or  about  red  Indians.  Which 
do  you  like  best?-  I  like  red  Indians  myself.  I  suppose 
you,  being  a  man,  like  ghosts  best.  Your  sincere  friend 
Aurelia  Carew.  Who  by  the  by  thinks  it  best  to  warn 
you  that  you  had  better  not  try  to  get  up  the  chimney, 
as  it  is  barred  across.  She  hopes  that  the  table  did  not 
fall  into  the  bath." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

MY   FRIEND   AURELIA   AND   HER    UNCLE 

IT  was  a  friendly  letter,  which  relieved  me  a  good  deal 
from  my  anxieties;  but  what  I  could  not  bear  was  the 
thought  that  the  Duke  would  think  me  a  deserter.    I 
made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  get  away  from  that 
house  at  the  first  opportunity,  so  as  to  rejoin  the  Duke, 
to  whom  I  felt  myself  pledged.    But  in  the  meantime, 
until  I  could  get  away,  I  resolved  to  make  the  best  of 
my  imprisonment.    I  was  nettled  by  Aurelia's  tone  of 
superiority.     I  would  show  her,  as  I  had  shown  her 
before,  that  my  wits  were  just  as  nimble  as  hers.    A 
few  minutes  after  the  letter  had  been  read,  she  held  a 
parley  with  me  through  the  keyhole. 
"  Mr.  Martin  Hyde.    Are  you  going  to  shoot  me?  " 
"  No,  Miss  Carew,  though  I  think  you  deserve  it." 
"  You  won't  try  to  get  away  if  I  open  the  door?  " 
"  I  mean  to  get  away  as  soon  as  ever  I  get  half  a 
chance." 

"  I've  got  three  men  with  me  at  the  door  here." 
"  Oh.     Very  well.     But  you  just  wait  till  I  get  a 
chance." 
"  Don't  be  so  bloodthirsty,  Mr.  Martin  Hyde.     Now, 


WILL  YOU  NOT  SHAKE  HANDS  WITH  ME,  MARTIN  HYDE?  " 

Page  257 


MY  FRIEND  AURELIA  AND  HER  UNCLE      257 

Fm  coming  in  to  talk  with  you.  No  pistols,  mind. 
Not  one." 

"  I've  promised  I  won't  shoot.  You  might  believe  a 
fellow.  But  I  mean  to  get  away,  remember.  Just  to 
show  you." 

She  opened  the  door  after  that,  a  brown,  merry 
Aurelia,  behind  whom  I  could  see  three  men,  ready  to 
stop  any  rush.  They  closed  the  door  behind  her  after 
she  had  entered. 

"Well,"  she  said,  smiling.  "Will  you  not  shake 
hands  with  me,  Martin  Hyde?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  will  shake  hands.  But  you  played 
a  very  mean  trick,  I  think.  There." 

"  You  mustn't  think  me  mean,"  she  answered.  "  I 
don't  like  mean  people.  Now  promise  me  one  thing. 
You  say  you  are  going  to  run  away  from  us.  You 
won't  run  away  from  me  when  I  am  with  you,  will 
you?  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  after  thinking  this  over,  to  see  if  it  could 
be  twisted  into  any  sort  of  trap,  likely  to  stop  my  es- 
cape. "  I  will  not.  Not  while  I  am  with  you." 

"  That's  right,"  she  said.  "  We  can  go  out  together, 
then.  Now  you've  promised,  suppose  we  go  out  into  the 
garden." 

We  went  into  the  garden  together,  talking  of  every 
subject  under  the  sun  but  the  subject  nearest  to  our 
hearts  at  the  moment.  I  would  not  speak  of  her  capture 
of  me;  she  would  not  speak  of  the  Duke's  march  towards 


258  MARTIN  HYDE 

Taunton.  There  was  some  constraint  whenever  we 
came  near  those  subjects.  She  was  a  very  merry,  charm- 
ing companion;  but  the  effect  of  her  talk  that  morning 
was  to  make  me  angry  at  being  trapped  by  her.  I 
looked  over  the  countryside  for  guiding  points  in  case 
I  should  be  able  to  get  away.  Axminster  lay  to  the 
southeast,  distant  about  six  miles;  so  much  I  could 
reckon  from  the  course  of  our  morning's  ride.  I  could 
not  see  Axminster  for  I  was  shut  from  it  by  rolling 
combes,  pretty  high,  which  made  a  narrow  valley  for 
the  river.  To  the  west  the  combes  were  very  high, 
strung  along  towards  Taunton  in  heaps.  Due  east,  as 
I  suspected,  quite  near  to  us,  was  Chard,  where  by  this 
time  the  Duke  must  have  been  taking  up  his  position. 
Taunton  I  judged  (from  a  mile-stone  which  we  had 
passed)  to  be  not  much  more  than  a  dozen  miles  from 
where  I  was.  I  have  always  had  a  pretty  keen  sense  of 
position.  I  do  not  get  lost.  Even  in  the  lonely  parts 
of  the  world  I  have  never  been  lost.  I  can  figure  out 
the  way  home  by  a  sort  of  instinct  helped  by  a  glimpse 
at  the  sun.  When  I  go  over  a  hill  I  have  a  sort  of 
picture-memory  of  what  lies  behind,  to  help  me  home 
again,  however  tortuous  my  path  is  on  the  other  side. 
So  the  few  glimpses  which  I  could  get  of  the  surrounding 
country  were  real  helps  to  me.  I  made  more  use  of  them 
than  Aurelia  suspected. 

We  were  much  together  that  day.    Certainly  she  did 
her  best  to  make  my  imprisonment  happy.    In  the  eve- 


MY  FRIEND  AURELIA  AND  HER  UNCLE      259 

ning  she  was  kinder;  we  were  more  at  ease  together;  I 
was  able  to  speak  freely  to  her. 

"  Aurelia,"  I  said,  "  you  risked  your  life  twice  to  warn 
me." 

"  That's  not  quite  true,  Martin,"  she  said.  "  I  am 
a  government  spy,  trusted  with  many  people's  lives.  I 
had  other  work  to  do  than  to  warn  a  naughty  boy  who 
wanted  to  see  what  the  ghosts  were."  I  was  startled  at 
her  knowing  so  much  about  me;  she  laughed. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  like  you  for  it.  I  should  have 
wanted  to  see  them  myself.  But  the  ghost-makers  are 
scattered  far  enough  now." 

"  All  the  same,  Aurelia,"  I  said,  "  I  thank  you  for 
what  you  did  for  me.  I  wish  I  could  do  something  in 
return/'  She  laughed. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  you  were  very  kind  in  the  ship. 
You  were  a  good  enemy  to  me  then.  Weren't  you?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  beat  you  properly  on  the  ship.  I 
carried  the  Duke's  letters  in  my  pistol  cartridges,  where 
you  never  suspected  them.  The  letters  which  were  in 
the  satchel  I  forged  myself  after  I  got  on  board.  If 
you'd  not  been  a  silly  you'd  have  seen  that  they  were 
forged." 

"  So  that  was  why,"  she  said.  "  Those  letters  gave 
everybody  more  anxious  work  than  you've  any  notion 
of.  Oh,  Martin,  though,  I  helped  to  drug  you  to  get 
those  letters.  It  was  terrible.  Terrible.  Will  you  ever 
forgive  me?  " 


260  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Why,  yes,  Aurelia,"  I  said.  "  After  all,  it  was  done 
for  your  King.  Just  as  I  mean  to  run  away  from  here 
to  serve  mine.  All  is  fair  in  the  King's  service.  Let  us 
shake  hands  on  that."  We  shook  hands  heartily,  look- 
ing into  each  other's  eyes. 

"  By  the  way,"  I  said,  "  where  did  you  get  to  that 
day  in  Holland,  when  I  got  the  letters  from  you?  " 

"  Ah,"  she  answered,  "  you  made  me  like  a  wildcat 
that  day.  I  nearly  killed  you,  twice.  You  remember 
that  low  parapet  on  the  roof?  I  was  behind  that, 
waiting  for  you  with  a  loaded  pistol.  You  were  all 
very  near  your  deaths  that  morning.  In  the  King's 
service,  of  course.  For  just  a  minute,  I  thought  that 
you  would  climb  up  to  examine  that  parapet.  What  a 
crazy  lot  you  all  were  not  to  know  at  once  that  I  was 
there!  Where  else  could  I  have  been?" 

"  Well,"  I  answered,  "  I  beat  you  in  the  ride,  didn't 
I?  You  thought  yourself  awfully  clever  about  that 
horse  at  the  inn.  Well,  I  beat  you  there.  I  beat  you  in 
the  race.  I  beat  you  with  my  letters  to  the  Dutchman. 
I  beat  you  over  those  forgeries." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  she  said.  "  I  can  beat  all  the  men  in 
your  Duke's  service.  Every  one.  Even  clever  Colonel 
Lane.  Even  Fletcher  of  Saltoun.  But  a  boy  is  so  un- 
expected, there's  no  beating  a  boy,  except  with  a  good 
birch  rod.  You  beat  me  so  often,  Martin,  that  I  think 
you  can  afford  to  forgive  me  for  tricking  you  once  in 
bringing  you  here." 


MY  FRIEND  AURELIA  AND  HER  UNCLE      261 

"  I  shall  beat  you  in  that,  too,  Miss  Carew,"  I  said; 
"  for  I  mean  to  get  away  from  you  as  soon  as  I  can." 

"  So  you  say,"  she  said.  "  But  we  have  club  men 
walking  all  round  this  house  all  night,  as  well  as  sentries 
by' day,  guarding  the  stock.  Your  gang  of  marauders 
will  find  a  rough  welcome  if  they  come  for  refreshments 
here." 

Even  as  she  spoke,  there  came  a  sudden  crash  of 
fire-arms  from  the  meadows  outside  the  garden.  About 
a  dozen  men  came  hurrying  out  of  the  house  with 
weapons  in  their  hands,  among  them  a  big,  fierce- 
looking  handsome  man,  who  drew  his  sword  as  he  ran. 

"  That  is  my  uncle,  Travers  Carew,"  said  Aurelia. 
"  He  owns  this  property.  He  wants  to  meet  you." 
There  came  another  splutter  of  fire-arms  from  the 
meadows.  "  Come,"  she  said.  "  We'll  see  what  it 
is.  It  is  the  Duke's  men  come  pillaging." 

We  ran  through  a  gate  in  the  wall  into  an  apple- 
orchard,  where  the  Carew  men  were  already  dodging 
among  the  trees  towards  the  enemy.  There  was  a  good 
deal  of  shouting,  but  the  tide  of  battle,  as  they  call  it, 
the  noise  of  shots,  the  trampling  of  horses,  had  already 
set  away  to  the  left,  where  the  enemy  were  retreating, 
with  news,  as  I  heard  later,  that  the  militia  held  the 
Abbey  in  force.  The  Carew  men  came  back  in  a  few 
minutes  with  a  prisoner.  He  had  been  captured  while 
holding  the  horses  of  two  friends,  who  had  dismounted 
to  drive  off  some  of  the  Carew  cattle.  He  said  that  the 


262  MARTIN  HYDE 

attack  had  been  made  by  a  party  of  twenty  of  the  Duke's 
horse,  sent  out  to  bring  in  food  for  the  march.  They  had 
scattered  at  the  first  discharge  of  fire-arms,  which  had 
frightened  them  horribly,  for  they  had  not  expected 
any  opposition.  The  frightened  men  never  drew  rein 
till  they  galloped  their  exhausted  horses  into  Chard 
camp,  where  they  gave  another  touch  of  dejection  to  the 
melancholy  Duke.  As  for  the  prisoner,  he  was  sent 
off  under  guard  to  Honiton  gaol;  I  don't  know  what 
became  of  him.  He  was  one  of  more  than  three  thousand 
who  came  to  death  or  misery  in  that  war.  They  said 
that  he  was  a  young  farmer,  in  a  small  way,  from  some- 
where out  beyond  Chideock.  The  war  had  been  a  kind 
of  high-spirited  frolic  for  him;  he  had  entered  into  it 
thoughtlessly,  in  the  belief  that  it  would  be  a  sort  of 
pleasant  ride  to  London,  with  his  expenses  paid.  Now 
he  was  ended.  When  he  rode  out  with  bound  hands 
from  the  Carew  house  that  evening,  between  two  armed 
riders,  he  rode  out  of  life.  He  never  saw  Chideock 
again,  except  in  the  grey  light  of  dawn,  after  a  long  ride 
upon  a  hurdle,  going  to  be  hanged  outside  his  home. 
Or  perhaps  he  was  bundled  into  one  of  the  terrible 
convict  ships  bound  for  Barbadoes,  with  other  rebels, 
to  die  of  small-pox  on  the  way,  or  under  the  whip  in 
the  plantations. 

After  this  little  brush,  with  its  pitiful  accompaniment, 
which  filled  me  full  of  a  blind  anger  against  the  royal 
party,  so  much  stronger,  yet  with  so  much  less  right  than 


MY  FRIEND  AURELIA  AND  HER  UNCLE     263 

ours,  I  was  taken  in  to  see  Sir  Travers  Carew.  He  had 
just  sent  off  the  prisoner  to  Honiton,  much  as  he  would 
have  brushed  a  fly  from  his  hand.  He  had  that 
satisfaction  with  himself,  that  feeling  of  having  sup- 
ported the  right,  which  comes  to  all  those  who  do  cruel 
things  in  the  name  of  that  code  of  unjust  cruelty,  the 
criminal  law.  He  looked  at  me  with  rather  a  grim  smile, 
which  made  me  squirm. 

"  So,"  he  said,  "  this  is  the  young  rebel,  is  it?  Do 
you  know  that  I  could  send  you  off  to  Honiton  gaol 
with  that  poor  fellow  there?  "  This  made  my  heart 
die;  but  something  prompted  me  to  put  a  good  face 
on  it. 

"  Sir,"  I  said,  "  I  have  done  what  my  father  thought 
right.  I  don't  wish  to  be  treated  better  than  any  other 
prisoner.  Send  me  to  Honiton,  sir." 

"  No,"  he  said,  looking  at  me  kindly.  "  I  shall  not 
send  you  to  Honiton.  You  are  not  in  arms  against 
the  King's  peace,  nor  did  you  come  over  from  Holland 
with  the  Duke.  I  can't  send  you  to  Honiton.  Besides, 
I  knew  your  father,  Martin.  I  was  at  college  with  him. 
He  was  a  good  friend  of  mine,  poor  fellow.  No,  sir. 
I  shall  keep  you  here  till  the  Duke's  crazy  attempt  is 
knocked  on  the  head.  I  think  I  can  find  something 
better  for  you  to  do  than  that  fussy  old  maid,  your  uncle, 
could.  But,  remember,  sir.  You  have  a  reputation  for 
being  a  slippery  young  eel.  I  shall  take  particular 
pains  to  keep  you  from  slipping  out  of  my  hands.  But 


264  MARTIN  HYDE 

I  do  not  wish  to  use  force  to  your  father's  son.  Will 
you  give  me  your  word  not  to  try  to  escape?  " 

"  No,"  I  answered,  sullenly.  "  I  won't.  I  mean  to 
get  away  directly  I  can." 

"  Come,"  he  said  kindly.  "  We  tricked  you  rather 
nastily.  But  do  you  suppose,  Martin,  that  your  father, 
if  he  were  here,  would  encourage  your  present  reso- 
lutions? The  Duke  is  coming  (nearly  unprepared)  to 
bring  a  lot  of  silly  yokels  into  collision  with  fully 
trained  soldiers  ten  times  more  numerous.  If  the 
countryside,  the  gentry,  the  educated,  intelligent  men, 
were  ready  for  the  Duke,  or  believed  in  his  cause, 
they  would  join  him.  They  do  not  join  him.  His 
only  adherents  are  the  idle,  ignorant,  ill-conditioned 
rogues  of  this  county,  who  will  neither  fight  nor  obey, 
when  it  comes  to  the  pinch.  I  do  not  love  the  present 
King,  Martin,  but  he  is  a  better  man  than  this  Duke. 
The  Duke  will  never  make  a  king.  He  may  be  very 
fit  for  court- life;  but  there  is  not  an  ounce  of  king 
in  him.  If  the  Duke  succeeds,  in  a  year  or  two  he  will 
show  himself  so  foolish  that  we  shall  have  to  send  for  the 
Prince  of  Orange,  who  is  a  man  of  real,  strong  wisdom. 
We  count  on  that  same  prince  to  deliver  us  from  James, 
when  the  time  is  ripe.  It  is  not  ripe,  yet.  I  am  telling 
you  bitter,  stern  truth,  Martin.  Now,  then.  Let  me 
have  your  promise  not  to  continue  in  the  service  of 
this  doomed  princeling,  your  master.  Eh?  What  shall 
it  be?  " 


MY  FRIEND  AURELIA  AND  HER  UNCLE      265 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  that's  desertion." 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  answered.  "  It  is  a  custom  of 
war.  Come  now.  As  a  prisoner  of  war,  give  me  your 
parole." 

"  You  said  just  now  that  I  was  not  a  prisoner  of  war," 
I  answered. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  he  said.  "  I  am  a  magistrate.  I 
commit  you  as  a  suspected  person.  Hart !  Hart ! "  (Here 
he  called  in  a  man-servant.)  "  Just  see  that  this  young 
sprig  keeps  out  of  mischief.  Think  it  over,  Mr.  Martin. 
Think  it  over." 

In  a  couple  of  minutes  I  was  back  in  my  prison 
cells,  locked  in  for  the  night,  with  neither  lamp  nor 
candle.  A  cot  had  been  made  up  for  me  in  a  corner 
of  the  room.  Supper  was  laid  for  me  on  the  table, 
which  had  been  brought  back  to  its  place.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  grope  to  bed  in  the  twilight, 
wondering  how  soon  I  could  get  away  to  what  I  still 
believed  to  be  a  righteous  cause  in  which  my  father 
wished  me  to  fight.  I  slept  soundly  after  my  day  of 
adventure.  I  dreamed  that  I  rode  into  London  behind 
the  Duke,  amid  all  the  glory  of  victory,  with  the  people 
flinging  flowers  at  us.  But  dreams  go  by  contraries, 
the  wise  women  say. 

I  was  a  full  fortnight,  or  a  little  more,  a  prisoner  in 
that  house.  They  treated  me  very  kindly.  Aurelia  was 
like  an  elder  sister.  Old  Sir  Travers  used  to  jest  at 
my  being  a  rebel.  But  I  was  a  prisoner,  shut  in,  watched. 


266  MARTIN  HYDE 

kept  close.  The  kindness  jarred  upon  me.  It  was 
treating  me  like  a  child,  when  I  was  no  longer  a  child. 
I  had  for  some  wild  weeks  been  doing  things  which  few 
men  have  the  chance  of  doing.  Perhaps,  if  I  had  confided 
all  that  I  felt  to  Aurelia,  she  would  have  cleared  away 
my  troubles,  made  me  see  that  the  Duke's  cause  was 
wrong,  that  my  father  would  wish  his  son  well  out  of 
civil  broils,  however  just,  that  I  had  better  give  the 
promise  that  they  asked  from  me.  But  I  never  confided 
really  fully  in  her.  I  moped  a  good  deal,  much  worried 
in  my  mind.  I  began  to  get  a  lot  of  unworthy  fancies 
into  my  head,  silly  fancies,  which  an  honest  talk  would 
have  scattered  at  once.  I  began  to  think  from  their 
silence  about  the  Duke's  doings  that  his  affairs  were 
prospering,  that  he  was  conquering,  or  had  conquered, 
that  I  was  being  held  by  this  loyalist  family  as  a  hostage. 
It  was  silly  of  me;  but  although  in  many  ways  I  was 
a  skilled  man  of  affairs,  I  had  only  the  brain  of  a  child, 
I  could  not  see  the  absurdity  of  what  I  came  to  believe. 
It  worried  me  so  much  that  at  the  end  of  my  imprison- 
ment I  became  very  feverish;  really  ill  from  anxiety, 
as  prisoners  often  are.  I  refused  food  for  the  latter  part 
of  one  day,  hoping  to  frighten  my  captors.  They  did 
not  notice  it,  so  I  had  my  pains  for  nothing.  I  went  to 
bed  very  early;  but  I  could  not  sleep.  I  fidgeted  about 
till  I  was  unusually  wakeful.  Then  I  got  out  of  bed 
to  try  if  there  was  a  way  of  escape  by  the  old-fashioned 
chimney,  barred  across  as  it  was,  at  intervals,  by  strong 


MY  FRIEND  AURELIA  AND  HER  UNCLE      267 

old  iron  bars.  I  had  never  thought  the  chimney  possible, 
having  examined  it  before,  when  I  first  came  to  that 
house;  but  my  fever  made  me  think  all  things  possible; 
so  up  I  got,  hoping  that  I  should  have  light  enough  to 
work  by. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  PRIEST'S  HOLE 

IT  was  too  dark  to  do  much  that  night,  but  I  spent 
an  hour  in  picking  mortar  from  the  bricks  into  which 
the  lowest  iron  bar  had  been  let.  After  a  brief  sleep 
I  woke  in  the  first  of  the  light  (at  about  one  o'clock) 
ready  to  go  at  it  again.  My  fever  was  hot  upon  me.  I 
don't  think  that  I  was  quite  sane  that  day;  but  all 
my  reason  seemed  to  burn  up  into  one  bright  point, 
escape,  escape  at  all  costs,  then,  at  the  instant.  I 
must  tell  you  that  the  chimney,  like  most  old  chimneys, 
was  big  enough  for  a  big  boy  to  scramble  up,  in  order 
to  sweep  it.  For  some  reason,  the  owners  of  the  house 
had  barred  the  chimney  across  so  that  this  could  not  be 
done.  They  swept  it,  probably,  in  the  effective  old- 
fashioned  way  by  shooting  a  blank  charge  of  powder 
from  a  blunderbuss  straight  up  the  opening.  The  first 
two  iron  bars  were  so  placed  that  it  was  only  necessary 
to  remove  one  to  make  room  for  my  body.  Further 
up  there  were  others,  more  close  together.  The  fire 
had  not  been  lighted  for  many  years;  there  was  no 
soot  in  the  passage.  There  was  a  jackdaw's  nest  high 
up.  I  could  see  the  old  jackdaw  looking  down  at  me. 


THE  PRIEST'S  HOLE  269 

Up  above  her  head  was  a  little  square  of  sky.  I  did  not 
doubt  that  when  I  got  to  the  top  I  should  be  able  to 
scramble  out  of  that  square  on  to  the  leads,  then  down 
by  a  water-spout,  evading  the  sentries,  over  the  garden 
wall  to  freedom.  After  half  an  hour  of  mortar  picking 
I  got  one  end  of  the  lowest  iron  bar  out  of  its  socket. 
Then  I  picked  out  the  mortar  from  the  other  end,  working 
the  bar  about  like  a  lever,  to  grind  the  fulcrum  into  dust. 
Soon  I  had  the  bar  so  loose  that  I  was  able  to  thrust  it 
to  one  side,  leaving  a  passage  big  enough  for  my  body. 
I  was  very  happy  when  this  was  done.  I  went  back 
to  the  room  to  make  up  a  packet  of  food  to  take  with 
me.  This  I  thrust  into  an  inner  pocket,  before  launching 
out  up  the  hole.  When  I  had  cleaned  up  the  mess  of 
mortar,  I  started  up  the  chimney,  carefully  replacing  the 
bar  behind  me.  Soon  I  was  seven  or  eight  feet  above  the 
room,  trying  to  get  at  the  upper  bars.  I  was  scrambling 
about  for  foothold,  when  I  noticed,  to  my  left,  an  iron 
bar  or  handle,  well  concealed  from  below  by  projecting 
bricks.  I  seized  hold  of  it  with  my  left  hand,  very 
glad  of  the  support  it  offered,  when,  with  a  dull  grating 
noise,  it  slid  downwards  under  my  weight,  drawing 
with  it  the  iron  panel  to  which  it  was  clamped.  I  had 
come  upon  a  secret  chamber  in  the  chimney;  there  at 
my  side  was  an  opening  big  enough  for  a  man's  body. 
I  was  pretty  well  startled  by  it,  not  only  by  the  sud- 
denness of  the  discovery,  but  from  the  fear  I  had  lest 
it  should  lead  to  some  inhabited  room,  where  my 


270  MARTIN   HYDE 

journey  would  be  brought  to  an  end.  I  peered  into  it 
well,  before  I  ventured  to  enter.  It  was  a  little  low 
room,  about  five  feet  square,  lit  by  two  loopholes,  which 
were  concealed  from  outside  by  the  great  growth  of 
ivy  on  the  side  of  the  house.  I  clambered  into  it  with 
pleasure,  keeping  as  quiet  as  I  could.  It  was  a  dirty 
little  room,  with  part  of  its  floor  rotten  from  rain  which 
had  beaten  in  through  the  loopholes.  It  had  not  been 
used  for  a  great  while.  The  pallet  bed  against  the  wall 
was  covered  with  rotten  rags,  dry  as  tinder.  There 
were  traces  of  food,  who  could  say  how  ancient,  in  a 
dish  by  the  bed.  There  was  a  little  crucifix,  with  a 
broken  neck-chain,  lying  close  to  the  platter.  Some 
priest  who  had  used  this  priest-hole  years  before  had 
left  it  there  in  his  hurry;  I  wondered  how.  Something 
of  the  awe  which  had  been  upon  him  then  seemed  to 
linger  in  the  place.  Many  men  had  lain  with  beating 
hearts  in  that  room;  the  room  seemed  to  remember.  I 
have  never  been  in  a  place  which  made  one's  heart  move 
like  that  room.  Well.  The  priest's  fears  were  dead 
as  the  priest  by  this  time.  Nothing  but  the  wreck  of 
his  dinner,  perhaps  the  last  he  ever  ate,  remained  to 
tell  of  him,  beside  the  broken  symbol  of  his  belief.  I 
shut-to  the  little  panel-door  by  which  I  had  entered,  so 
that  I  might  not  have  the  horrible  fancy  that  the  old 
priest's  shaven  head  was  peering  up  the  chimney  at  me, 
to  see  what  I  was  doing  in  his  old  room,  long  since 
given  over  to  the  birds. 


THE  PRIEST'S  HOLE  271 

As  I  expected,  there  was  a  way  of  escape  from  the 
hiding-place.  A  big  stone  in  the  wall  seemed  to  project 
unnecessarily.;  the  last  comer  to  that  room  had  shut  the 
door  carelessly;  otherwise  I  might  never  have  found 
it.  Seeing  the  projecting  stone,  I  took  it  for  a  clue 
feeling  all  round  it,  till  I  found  that  underneath  it  there 
was  a  groove  for  finger  tips.  The  stone  was  nothing 
more  than  a  large,  cunningly  fashioned  drawer,  which 
pulled  out,  showing  a  passage  leading  down,  down, 
along  narrow  winding  steps,  just  broad  enough  for  one 
man  to  creep  down  at  a  time.  The  stairs  were  more 
awesome  than  the  room,  for  they  were  dark.  I  could 
not  see  where  they  led;  but  I  meant  to  go  through  this 
adventure,  now  that  I  had  begun  it.  So  down  I  crept 
cautiously,  clinging  to  the  wall,  feeling  with  my  feet  as 
I  went,  lest  there  should  be  no  step,  suddenly,  but  a 
black  pit,  far  down,  into  which  a  man  might  fall  head- 
long, on  to  who  knows  what  horrors.  I  counted  the 
steps.  I  thought  that  they  would  never  end.  There 
were  thirty-seven  altogether.  They  brought  me  to  a 
dark  sort  of  room,  with  damp  earth  for  its  floor,  upon 
which  water  slowly  dropped  from  some  unseen  stalactite. 
I  judged  that  I  must  be  somewhere  under  the  bath- 
chamber,  not  more  than  ten  feet  from  the  abbot's  old 
fish-pond.  If  there  was  a  way  out  I  felt  that  it  must  be 
to  my  left,  under  the  garden;  not  to  my  right,  which 
would  lead  back  under  the  body  of  the  house. 

Very  cautiously  I  felt  along  to  my  left,  till  I  found 


272  MARTIN  HYDE 

that  there  was  indeed  a  passage;  but  one  so  low  that 
I  had  to  stoop  to  get  along  it.  A  few  steps  further 
brought  me  with  a  shock  against  a  wall,  a  sad  surprise 
to  me,  for  I  thought  that  I  was  on  the  road  to  safety. 
When  I  recovered  from  my  fear  I  felt  along  the  wall  till 
I  found  that  the  passage  zigzagged  like  a  badger's  earth. 
It  turned  once  sharply  to  the  right,  going  up  a  couple 
of  steps,  then  again  sharply  to  the  left,  going  up  a  few 
more  steps,  then  again  to  the  right  up  one  step  more, 
to  a  broader  open  stretch,  lit  by  one  or  two  tiny  chinks, 
more  cheering  to  me  than  you  can  imagine.  I  guessed 
that  I  was  passing  at  last  under  the  garden,  having 
gone  right  below  the  house's  foundations.  The  chinks 
of  light  seemed  to  me  to  come  from  holes  worn  in  the 
roof  by  rabbits  or  rats.  They  were  pleasant  things  to 
see  after  all  that  groping  in  the  blackness  of  night.  On 
I  went  cautiously,  feeling  my  way  before  me,  till  sud- 
denly I  stopped  dead,  frightened  terribly,  for  close  to 
me,  almost  within  touch  as  it  seemed,  some  men  were 
talking  to  each  other.  They  were  evidently  sitting  just 
above  my  head,  in  the  cool  morning,  watching  for  me 
to  come  through  my  window,  as  I  suppose.  They  were 
some  of  Sir  Travers's  sentries.  A  moment's  thought  told 
me  that  I  had  little  to  fear  from  them,  if  I  moved  quietly 
in  my  burrow.  However,  as  my  walk  was  often  noisy, 
through  stumblings  on  stones,  I  waited  till  they  moved 
off,  which  was  not  for  some  minutes.  One  of  the  men 
was  asking  the  other  what  was  the  truth  about  the  Duke. 


THE  PRIEST'S  HOLE  273 

"  Why,"  his  mate  answered,  "  they  say  as  he  got  beat 
back  coming  towards  London.  They  say  he  be  going 
to  Bridgewater,  now,  to  make  it  a  castle,  like;  or 
perhaps  he  be  a  coming  to  Taunton.  They  say  he  have 
only  a  mob,  like,  left  to  en,  what  with  all  this  rain.  But 
I  do-an't  know.  He  be  very  like  to  come  here  agen; 
so  as  us'll  have  to  watch  for  our  stock." 

"  Ah?  "  said  the  first.  "  They  did  say  as  there  was 
soldiers  come  to  Evilminster.  So  as  to  shut  en  off,  like.  I 
seed  fires  out  that  way,  myself,  like  camp-fires,  afore  it 
grew  light.  They  do  say  the  soldiers  be  all  for  the  Duke." 

"  Yes,"  the  other  answered,  "  he  be  very  like  to  win 
if  it  come  to  a  battle.  He'd  a  got  on  to  London,  I  dare- 
say, if  the  roads  had  but  been  dry." 

"  What  do  ee  say  to  a  bit  of  tobaccy,  master?  "  said 
the  first,  after  a  pause. 

"Why,  very  well,"  said  the  other.  At  this  instant, 
without  any  warning,  something  in  the  wall  of  my  pas- 
sage gave  way,  some  bit  of  rotten  mortar  which  held  up 
a  stone,  or  something  of  the  sort.  At  any  rate,  a  stone 
fell  out,  with  a  little  rush  of  rotten  plaster,  making  a 
good  deal  of  noise,  though  of  course  it  seemed  more  to 
me  than  to  the  men  outside. 

"  What  ever  in  the  world  was  that?  "  said  one  of 
them. 

"  I  dunno,"  said  the  other.  "  It  seemed  to  come  from 
down  below  somewhere,  under  the  earth,  like.  Do  you 
think  as  it  could  be  a  rabbit?  " 


274  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  It  did  sound  like  a  stone  falling  out  of  a  wall,"  came 
the  answer.  "  I  dunno.  Where  could  it  a  come  from?  " 

They  seemed  to  search  about  for  some  trace  of  a  rab- 
bit; but  not  rinding  any,  they  listened  for  another  stone 
to  fall. 

"  I  tell  you  what  I  think/'  said  the  first  man. 
"  I  believe  as  there  be  underground  passages  all  over 
these  here  gardens.  Some  of  them  walks  sound  just 
as  hollow  as  logs  if  you  do  stamp  on  'em.  There  was 
very  queer  doings  here  in  the  old  monks'  time;  very 
queer.  Some  day  I  mean  to  grub  about  a  bit,  master. 
For  my  old  grandmother  used  always  to  say  as  the 
monks  buried  a  lot  of  treasure  hereabouts  in  the  old 
time." 

"Ah?"  said  the  other.  "Then  shall  us  get  a 
spade  quiet  like,  to  see  if  it  be  beneath."  The  other 
hesitated,  while  my  heart  sank.  I  very  nearly  went 
back  to  my  prison,  thinking  that  all  was  over. 

"  No,"  said  his  comrade.  "  Us'll  ask  Sir  Travers 
first.  He  doan't  like  people  grubbing  about.  Some  of 
his  forefathers  as  they  call  them  weren't  very  good,  I 
do  hear,  neither.  He  doan't  want  none  of  their  little 
games  brought  to  light,  like." 

After  this,  the  men  moved  off,  to  some  other  part  of 
their  beat.  I  went  on  along  the  passage  quickly,  till 
suddenly  I  fell  with  a  crash  down  three  or  four  steps 
into  a  dirty  puddle,  knocking  my  head  as  I  fell.  I 
could  see  no  glimmer  of  light  from  this  place;  but  I 


THE  PRIEST'S  HOLE  275 

groped  my  way  out,  up  a  few  more  steps  further  on  into 
a  smaller,  dirtier  passage  than  the  one  which  I  had  just 
left.  After  this  I  had  to  crawl  like  a  badger  hi  his 
earth,  with  my  back  brushing  against  the  roof,  over 
many  masses  of  broken  brickwork  most  rough  to  the 
palms  of  my  hands.  All  of  a  sudden  I  smelt  a  pleasant 
stable-smell.  I  heard  the  rattle  of  a  halter  drawn  across 
manger  bars.  I  heard  a  horse  paw  upon  the  ground 
quite  close  to  me.  A  dim,  but  regular  chink  of  light 
showed  in  front  of  me,  level  with  my  head  as  I  crawled. 
Peering  through  it,  I  saw  that  I  was  looking  into  a 
stable,  almost  level  with  the  floor;  the  passage  had  come 
to  an  end. 

By  getting  my  fingers  into  the  crack  through  which 
I  peered,  I  found  that  I  could  swing  round  some  half 
a  dozen  stones,  which  were  mortared  together,  so  as 
to  form  a  revolving  door.  It  worked  with  difficulty, 
as  though  no  one  had  passed  through  by  that  way  for 
many  years;  but  it  worked  for  me,  after  a  little  hard 
pushing,  I  scrambled  through  the  narrow  opening  into 
a  roomy  old  stable,  where  some  cart-horses  peered  at 
me  with  wonder,  as  I  rose  to  my  feet.  After  getting  out, 
I  shut  to  my  door  behind  me,  so  firmly  that  I  could 
not  open  it  again;  there  must  have  been  some  spring 
or  catch  which  I  could  not  set  to  work.  Two  steps 
more  took  me  out  of  the  horses'  stalls  into  the  space  be- 
hind, where,  on  a  mass  of  hay,  lay  a  carter,  fast  asleep, 
with  the  door-key  in  his  hand.  By  his  side  lay  a  pitch- 


276  MARTIN  HYDE 

fork.  He  was  keeping  guard  there,  prepared  to  resist 
Monmouth's  pillagers. 

He  slept  so  heavily  that  I  was  tempted  to  take  the 
key  from  his  hand.  Twice  I  made  little  half  steps  for- 
ward to  take  it ;  but  each  time  something  in  the  man's 
look  daunted  me.  He  was  a  surly-looking  man  who, 
if  roused  suddenly,  in  a  locked  stable,  might  lay  about 
him  without  waiting  to  see  who  roused  him.  He  stirred 
in  his  sleep  as  I  drew  near  him  for  the  second  time; 
so  I  gave  up  the  key  as  a  bad  job.  The  loft  seemed  to 
be  my  only  chance;  as  there  was  only  this  one  big- 
locked  double  door  upon  the  lower  floor,  I  clambered 
up  the  steep  ladder  to  the  loft,  hoping  that  my  luck 
there  might  be  better,  but  resolved,  if  the  worst  came, 
to  hide  there  in  the  hay  until  the  carter  took  the  horses 
to  work,  leaving  the  doors  open. 

I  had  hardly  set  my  foot  upon  the  loft  floor,  when  one 
of  the  horses/hearing  some  noise  outside,  or  being  moved 
by  some  evil  spirit,  whinnied  loudly,  rattling  his  halter. 
The  noise  was  enough  to  rouse  an  army.  It  startled  the 
carter  from  his  bed.  I  heard  him  leap  to  his  feet  with 
an  oath;  I  heard  him  pad  round  the  stable,  talking  to 
the  horses  m  turn;  I  heard  him  unlock  the  door  to 
see  what  was  stirring.  I  stood  stock-still  in  my  tracks, 
not  daring  to  stir  towards  the  cover  of  the  hay  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  loft.  I  heard  him  walk  slowly, 
grunting  heavily,  to  the  foot  of  the  ladder,  where  he 
stopped  to  listen  for  any  further  signal.  If  he  had  come 


THE  PRIEST'S  HOLE  277 

up  he  must  have  caught  me.  I  could  not  have  escaped. 
But  though  he  seemed  suspicious  he  did  not  venture 
further.  He  walked  slowly  back  to  his  bed,  grunting 
discontentedly.  In  a  few  minutes  he  was  sound  asleep 
again;  for  farming  people  sleep  like  sailors,  as  though 
sleep  were  a  sort  of  spirit  muffling  them  suddenly  in  a 
thick  felt  blanket.  After  he  had  gone  off  to  sleep,  I  took 
off  my  boots,  in  order  to  put  them  on  under  my  stockings, 
for  the  greater  quiet  which  that  muffling  gives  to  the 
tread.  Then  I  peered  about  the  loft  for  a  way  of  escape. 
There  were  big  double  doors  to  this  upper  loft,  through 
which  the  hay  could  be  passed  from  a  waggon  standing 
near  the  wall.  These  doors  were  padlocked  on  the 
inside;  there  was  no  opening  them;  the  staples  were 
much  too  firm  for  me  to  remove  without  a  crowbar. 
The  other  openings  in  the  walls  were  mere  loophole 
slits,  about  four  feet  long  but  only  a  few  inches  broad. 
There  were  enough  of  these  to  make  the  place  light. 
By  their  light  I  could  see  that  there  was  no  way  of 
escape  for  me  except  by  the  main  door.  I  was  almost 
despairing  of  escape  from  this  prison  of  mine,  when  I 
saw  that  the  loft  had  a  hayshoot,  leading  downwards. 
When  I  saw  it  I  fondly  hoped  that  it  led  to  some  outer 
stable  or  cart-shed,  separated  from  that  in  which  the  car- 
ter slept.  A  glahce  down  its  smooth  shaft  showed  me 
that  it  led  to  the  main  stable.  I  could  see  the  heads  of  the 
meditative  horses,  bent  over  the  empty  mangers  exactly 
as  if  they  were  saying  grace.  Beyond  them  I  saw  the 


278  MARTIN  HYDE 

boots  of  the  carter  dangling  over  the  edge  of  the  trusses 
of  hay  on  which  he  slept.  I  stepped  back  from  this  shaft 
quickly  because  I  thought  that  I  might  be  seen  from 
below.  My  foot  went  into  the  nest  of  a  sitting  hen, 
right  on  to  the  creature's  back.  Up  she  started,  giving 
me  such  a  fright  that  I  nearly  screamed.  She  flew  with 
a  cackling  shriek  which  set  all  the  blackbirds  chippering 
in  the  countryside.  Round  the  loft  she  scattered, 
calling  her  hideous  noise.  Up  jumped  the  carter, 
down  came  his  pitchfork  with  a  thud.  His  great  boots 
clattered  over  the  stable  to  the  ladder.  Clump,  clump, 
he  came  upstairs,  with  his  pitchfork  prongs  gleaming 
over  his  head  like  lanceheads.  I  saw  his  head  show  over 
the  opening  of  the  loft.  There  was  not  a  second  to 
lose.  His  back  of  course  was  still  towards  me,  as  the 
ladder  was  mercifully  nailed  to  the  wall.  Before  he 
turned  I  slid  over  the  mouth  of  the  shaft  down  into  the 
hayrack  of  the  old  brute  who  had  whinnied.  I  lit 
softly;  but  I  certainly  shocked  that  old  mare's  feelings. 
In  a  second,  before  she  had  time  to  kick,  I  was  outside 
her  stall,  darting  across  the  stable  to  the  key,  which  lay 
on  the  truss  of  hay,  mercifully  left  there  by  its  guardian. 
In  another  second  the  lock  had  turned.  I  was  outside, 
in  the  glorious  open  fields  again.  Swiftly  but  silently 
I  drew  the  key  out  of  the  lock.  One  second  more 
sufficed  to  lock  that  door  from  without.  The  carter 
was  a  prisoner  there,  locked  safely  in  with  his  horses. 
I  was  free.  The  key  was  in  my  pocket.  Yonder  lay  the 


HIS    BACK    OF   COURSE    WAS   STILL   TOWARDS   ME. 


Page  278 


THE  PRIEST'S  HOLE  279 

great  combes  which  hid  Taunton  from  me.  I  waved  my 
hat  towards  them;  then,  with  a  wild  joyous  rush,  I 
scrambled  behind  the  cover  of  the  nearest  hedge,  along 
which  I  ran  hard  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 

I  stopped  for  a  few  minutes  to  rest  among  some  ferns, 
while  I  debated  how  to  proceed.  I  changed  the  arrange- 
ment of  my  stockings;  I  also  dusted  my  very  dirty 
clothes,  all  filthy  from  that  horrid  passage  underground. 
"  Now,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  there  must  be  many  ways 
to  Taunton.  One  way,  I  know,  leads  along  this  valley, 
past  Chard  there,  where  the  houses  are.  The  other 
way  must  lie  across  these  combes,  high  up.  Which 
way  shall  I  choose,  I  wonder?  "  A  moment's  thought 
showed  me  that  the  combes  would  be  unfrequented, 
while  the  valley  road,  being  the  easy  road,  which  (as 
I  knew)  the  Duke's  army  had  chosen,  would  no  doubt 
be  full  of  people,  some  of  them  (perhaps)  the  Kings 
soldiers,  coming  up  from  Bridport.  If  I  went  by  that 
road  my  pursuers  would  soon  hear  of  me,  even  if  I 
managed  to  get  past  the  watchers  on  the  road.  On  the 
other  hand,  Aurelia  would  probably  know  that  I  should 
choose  the  combe  road.  Still,  even  if  she  sent  out 
mounted  men,  she  would  find  me  hard  to  track,  since 
the  combes  were  lonely,  so  lonely  that  for  hours  together 
you  can  walk  there  without  meeting  anybody.  There 
would  be  plentiful  cover  among  the  combes  in  case  I 
wished  to  lie  low.  Besides,  I  had  a  famous  start,  a 
five  hours'  start;  for  I  should  not  be  missed  until  eight 


280  MARTIN  HYDE 

o'clock.  It  could  not  then  have  been  much  more  than 
half-past  two.  In  five  hours  an  active  boy,  even  if  he 
knew  not  the  road,  might  put  some  half  a  dozen  miles 
behind  him.  I  say  only  half  a  dozen  miles,  because  the 
roads  were  the  roughest  of  rough  mud-tracks,  still  soft 
from  the  rains.  As  I  did  not  know  the  way,  I  knew  that 
I  might  count  on  going  wrong,  taking  wrong  turns, 
etc.  As  I  wished  to  avoid  people,  I  counted  on  travelling 
most  of  the  way  across  country,  trusting  to  luck  to 
find  my  way  among  the  fields.  So  that,  although  in 
five  hours  I  should  travel  perhaps  ten  or  twelve  miles, 
I  could  not  count  on  getting  more  than  six  miles  towards 
Taunton. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

FREE 

FOR  the  first  hour  or  two,  as  no  one  would  be  about 
so  early,  I  thought  it  safe  to  use  the  road.  I  put  my 
best  foot  foremost,  going  up  the  great  steep  combe,  with 
Chard  at  my  back. 

The  road  was  one  of  the  loneliest  I  have  ever  trodden. 
It  went  winding  up  among  barren-looking  combes  which 
seemed  little  better  than  waste  land.  There  were 
few  hoiiies,  so  few  that  sometimes,  on  a  bit  of  rising 
ground,  when  the  road  lifted  clear  of  the  hedges,  one 
had  to  look  about  to  see  any  dwelling  of  men.  There 
was  little  cultivation,  either.  It  was  nearly  all  waste, 
or  scanty  pasture.  A  few  cows  cropped  by  the  wayside 
near  the  lonely  cottages.  A  few  sheep  wandered  among 
the  ferns.  It  was  a  very  desolate  land  to  lie  within  so 
few  miles  of  England's  richest  valleys.  I  walked 
through  it  hurriedly,  for  I  wished  to  get  far  from  my 
prison  before  my  escape  was  discovered.  No  one  was 
there  to  see  me ;  the  lie  of  the  valley  below  gave  me  my 
direction,  roughly,  but  closely  enough.  After  about  an 
hour  of  steady,  fairly  good  walking,  I  pulled  up  by  a 
little  tiny  brook  for  breakfast.  I  ate  quickly,  then 


282  MARTIN  HYDE 

\ 

hurried  on,  for  I  dared  not  waste  time.  I  turned  out 
of  the  narrow  cart-tracks  into  what  seemed  to  be  a  high- 
road. I  dipped  down  a  hollow,  past  a  pond  where 
geese  were  feeding,  then  turned  to  a  stiff  steep  hill, 
which  seemed  never  to  end  for  miles.  The  country 
grew  lonelier  at  every  step;  there  were  no  houses  there; 
only  a  few  rabbits  tamely  playing  in  the  outskirts  of 
the  coverts.  A  jay  screamed  in  the  clump  of  trees  at 
the  hill-top;  it  seemed  the  proper  kind  of  voice  for 
a  waste  like  that.  Still  further  on,  I  sat  down  to  rest 
at  the  brink  of  the  great  descent,  which  led,  as  I 
guessed,  as  I  could  almost  see,  to  the  plain  where 
Taunt  on  lay,  waiting  for  the  Duke's  army  to  garrison 
her.  There  were  thick  woods  to  my  right  at  this  point, 
making  cover  so  dense  that  no  hounds  would  have  tried 
to  break  through  it,  no  matter  how  strong  a  scent  might 
lead  them.  It  was  here,  as  I  sat  for  a  few  minutes  to 
rest,  that  a  strange  thing  happened. 

I  was  sitting  at  the  moment  with  my  back  to  the 
wood,  looking  over  the  desolate  country  towards  a 
tiny  cottage  far  off  on  the  side  of  the  combe.  A  big 
dog-fox  came  out  of  the  cover  from  behind  me,  so 
quietly  that  I  did  not  hear  him.  He  trotted  past  me 
in  the  road;  I  do  not  think  that  he  saw  me  till  he  was 
just  opposite.  Then  he  stopped  to  examine  me,  as 
though  he  had  never  seen  such  a  thing  before.  He 
was  puzzled  by  me,  but  he  soon  decided  that  I  was  not 
worth  bothering  about,  for  he  made  no  stay.  He 


FREE  283 

padded  slowly  on  towards  Chard,  evidently  well- 
pleased  with  himself.  Suddenly  he  stopped  dead,  with 
one  pad  lifted,  a  living  image  of  alert  tension.  He  was 
alarmed  by  something  coming  along  the  road  by  which 
I  had  come.  He  turned  his  head  slightly,  as  though  to 
make  sure  with  his  best  ear.  Then  with  a  single  beauti- 
ful lollopping  bound  he  was  over  the  hedge  to  safety, 
going  in  that  exquisite  curving  rhythm  of  movement 
which  the  fox  has  above  all  English  animals.  For  a 
second,  I  wondered  what  it  was  that  had  startled  him. 
Then,  with  a  quickness  of  wit  which  would  have  done 
credit  to  an  older  mind,  I  realized  that  there  was  danger 
coming  on  the  road  towards  me,  danger  of  men  or  of 
dogs,  since  nothing  else  in  this  country  frightens  a  fox. 
It  flashed  in  upon  me  that  I  must  get  out  of  sight  at 
once;  before  that  danger  hove  in  view  of  me.  I  gave 
a  quick  rush  over  the  fence  into  the  tangle,  through  which 
I  drove  my  way  till  I  was  snug  in  an  open  space  under 
some  yew  trees,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  brambles. 
I  shinned  up  one  of  the  great  yew  trees,  till  I  could 
command  a  sight  of  the  road,  while  lying  hidden  myself 
in  the  profuse  darkness  of  the  foliage.  Here  I  drew  out 
my  pistol,  ready  for  what  might  come.  I  suppose  I 
had  not  been  in  my  hiding-place  for  more  than  thirty 
seconds,  when  over  the  brow  of  the  hill  came  Sir  Travers 
Carew,  at  a  full  gallop,  cheering  on  a  couple  of  hounds, 
who  were  hot  on  my  scent.  Aurelia  rode  after  him,  on 
her  famous  chestnut  mare.  Behind  her  galloped  two 


284  MARTIN   HYDE 

men,  whom  I  had  not  seen  before.  In  an  instant,  they 
were  swooped  down  to  the  place  where  the  dog-fox  had 
passed.  The  hounds  gave  tongue  when  they  smelt  the 
rank  scent  of  their  proper  game;  they  were  unused  to 
boy-hunting.  They  did  not  hesitate  an  instant,  but 
swung  off  as  wild  as  puppies  over  the  hedge,  after  the 
fox.  The  horsemen  paused  for  a  second,  surprised  at  the 
sudden  sharp  turn ;  but  they  followed  the  hounds'  lead, 
popping  over  the  fence  most  nimbly,  not  waiting  to 
look  for  my  tracks  in  the  banks  of  the  hedge.  They 
streamed  away  after  the  fox,  to  whom  I  wished  strong 
legs.  I  knew  that  with  two  young  hounds  they  would 
never  catch  him,  but  I  hoped  that  he  would  give  them 
a  good  run  before  the  sun  killed  the  scent.  I  looked  at 
the  sun,  now  gloriously  bright  over  all  the  world,  putting 
a  bluish  glitter  on  to  the  shaking  oak  leaves  of  the  wood. 
How  came  it  that  they  had  discovered  my  flight  so 
soon  since  it  could  not  be  more  than  six  o'clock,  if  as 
much?  I  wondered  if  it  had  been  the  old  carter,  who 
had  never  really  seen  me.  It  might  have  been  the  old 
carter;  but  doubtless  he  drummed  for  a  good  while 
on  the  door  of  the  stable  before  anybody  heard  him. 
Or  it  might  have  been  one  of  the  garden  sentries.  One 
of  the  sentries  might  well  have  peeped  in  at  the  window 
of  my  room  to  make  sure  that  I  was  up  to  no  pranks. 
He  could  have  seen  from  the  window  that  my  bed  was 
empty.  If  he  had  noticed  that,  he  could  have  unlocked 
my  door  to  make  sure,  after  which  it  would  not  have 


FREE  285 

taken  more  than  a  few  minutes  to  start  after  me.  I 
learned  afterwards  that  the  sentry  had  alarmed  the 
house  at  a  little  before  five  o'clock.  The  carter,  being 
only  half-awake  when  he  came  after  me,  suspected 
nothing  till  the  other  farm-hands  came  for  the  horses, 
at  about  six  o'clock,  when,  the  key  being  gone,  he  had 
to  break  the  lock,  vowing  that  the  rattens  had  took 
his  key  from  him  in  the  night.  My  disappearance 
puzzled  everybody,  because  I  had  hidden  my  tracks 
so  carefully  that  no  one  noticed  at  first  how  the  chimney 
bars  had  been  loosened.  No  one  in  that  house  knew  of 
the  secret  room,  so  that  the  general  impression  was 
that  I  had  either  squeezed  myself  through  the  window, 
or  blown  myself  out  through  the  keyhole  by  art-magic. 
The  hounds  had  been  laid  along  the  road  to  Chard, 
with  the  result  that  they  had  hit  my  trail  after  a  few 
minutes  of  casting  about. 

Now  that  they  were  after  me,  I  did  not  know  what  to 
do.  I  dared  not  go  on  towards  Taunton;  for  who  knew 
how  soon  the  squire  would  find  his  error,  by  viewing  the 
fox?  He  was  too  old  a  huntsman  not  to  cast  back  to 
where  he  had  left  the  road,  as  soon  as  he  learned  that  his 
hounds  had  changed  foxes.  I  concluded  that  I  had 
better  stay  where  I  was,  throughout  that  day,  care- 
fully hidden  in  the  yew-tree.  In  the  evening  I  might 
venture  further  if  the  coast  seemed  clear.  It  was  easy 
to  make  such  a  resolution ;  but  not  so  easy  to  keep  to 
it;  for  fifteen  hours  is  a  long  time  for  a  boy  to  wait. 


286  MARTIN  HYDE 

I  stayed  quiet  for  some  hours,  but  I  heard  no  more  of 
my  hunters.  I  learned  later  that  they  had  gone  from 
me,  in  a  wide  circuit,  to  cut  round  upon  the  Taunton 
roads,  so  as  to  intercept  me,  or  to  cause  me  to  be  inter- 
cepted in  case  I  passed  by  those  ways.  The  hounds  gave 
up  after  chasing  the  fox  for  three  miles.  The  old  squire 
thought  that  they  stopped  because  the  sun  had  de- 
stroyed the  scent.  With  a  little  help  from  an  animal  I 
had  beaten  Aurelia  once  more. 

When  I  grew  weary  of  sitting  up  in  the  yew  tree,  I 
clambered  down,  intending  to  push  on  through  the 
wood  until  I  came  to  the  end  of  it.  It  was  mighty 
thick  cover  to  push  through  for  the  first  half  mile; 
then  I  came  to  a  cart-track,  made  by  wood-cutters, 
which  I  followed  till  it  took  me  out  of  the  wood  into  a 
wild  kind  of  sheep-pasture.  It  was  now  fully  nine  in 
the  morning,  but  the  country  was  so  desolate  it  might 
have  been  undiscovered  land.  I  might  have  been  its 
first  settler,  newly  come  there  from  the  seas.  It  taught 
me  something  of  the  terrors  of  war,  that  day's  wandering 
towards  Taunton.  I  realized  that  all  the  men  of  these 
parts  had  wandered  away  after  the  Duke,  for  the  sake  of 
the  excitement,  after  living  lonely  up  there  in  the  wilds. 
Their  wives  had  followed  the  army  also.  The  whole 
population  (scanty  as  it  was)  had  moved  off  to  look  for 
something  more  stirring  than  had  hitherto  come  to 
them.  I  wandered  on  slowly,  taking  my  time,  getting 
my  direction  fairly  clear  from  the  glimpses  which  I 


FREE  287 

sometimes  caught  of  the  line  of  the  highway.  At  a 
little  after  noon  I  ate  the  last  of  my  victuals  near  a 
spring.  I  rested  after  my  dinner,  then  pushed  on  again, 
till  I  had  won  to  a  little  spinney  only  four  miles  from 
Taunton,  where  my  legs  began  to  fail  under  me. 

I  crept  into  the  spinney,  wondering  if  it  contained 
some  good  shelter  in  which  I  could  sleep  for  the  night. 
I  found  a  sort  of  dry,  high  pitched  bank,  with  the  grass 
all  worn  off  it,  which  I  thought  would  serve  my  turn, 
if  the  rain  held  off.  As  for  supper,  I  determined  to  shoot 
a  rabbit  with  my  pistol.  For  drink,  there  was  a  plenty 
of  small  brooks  within  half  a  mile  of  the  little  enclosure. 
After  I  had  chosen  my  camp,  I  was  not  very  satisfied 
with  it.  The  cover  near  by  was  none  too  thick.  So  I 
moved  off  to  another  part  where  the  bushes  grew  more 
closely  together.  As  I  was  walking  leisurely  along, 
I  smelt  a  smell  of  something  cooking,  I  heard  voices, 
I  heard  something  clink,  as  though  two  tin  cups  were 
being  jangled.  Before  I  could  draw  back,  a  man  thrust 
through  the  undergrowth,  challenging  me  with  a  pistol. 
Two  other  men  followed  him,  talking  in  low,  angry  tones. 
They  came  all  round  me  with  very  murderous  looks. 
They  were  the  filthiest  looking  scarecrows  ever  seen  out 
of  a  wheat-field. 

"  Why,"  said  one  of  them,  lowering  his  pistol,  "  it  be 
the  Duke's  young  man,  as  we  seed  at  Lyme."  They 
became  more  friendly  at  that;  but  still  they  seemed 
uneasy,  not  very  sure  of  my  intentions. 


288  MARTIN  HYDE 

"  Where  is  the  Duke?  "  I  asked  after  a  long  awkward 
pause.  "  Is  he  at  Taunt  on?  "  They  looked  from  one 
to  the  other  with  strange  looks  which  I  did  not  under- 
stand. V-. 

"  The  Duke  be  at  Bridgewater,"  said  one  of  them  in 
a  curious  tone.  "  What  be  you  doing  away  from  the 
Duke?  " 

"  Why/'  I  said,  "  I  was  taken  prisoner.  I  escaped 
this  morning." 

"  Yes?  "  they  said  with  some  show  of  eagerness.  "  Be 
there  many  soldiers  hereaway,  after  us?  " 

"No.  Not  many,"  I  said.  "  Are  you  coming  from 
the  Duke?" 

"  Yes,"  said  one  of  them,  "  we  left  en  at  Bridgewater. 
We  been  having  enough  of  fighting  for  the  crown.  We 
been  marching  in  mud  up  to  our  knees.  We  been  fight- 
ing behind  hedges.  We  been  retreating  for  the  last 
week.  So  now  us  be  going  home,  if  us  can  get  there. 
Glad  if  we  never  sees  a  fight  again." 

"  Well  "  I  said,  "  I  must  get  to  the  Duke  if  I  can. 
How  far  is  it  to  Bridgewater?  " 

"  Matter  of  fifteen  mile,"  they  said,  after  a  short  de- 
bate. "  You'll  never  get  there  tonight.  Nor  perhaps 
tomorrow,  since  we  hear  the  soldiers  be  a  coming." 

"  I'll  get  some  of  the  way  tonight,"  I  said;  but  my 
heart  sank  at  the  thought;  for  I  was  tired  out. 

"  No,  young  master,"  said  one  of  the  men  kindly, 
"  you  stop  with  us  for  tonight.  Come  to  supper  with 


FREE  289 

us.  Us  'ave  rabbits  on  the  fire."  Their  fortnight 
of  war  had  given  them  a  touch  of  that  comradeship 
which  camp-life  always  gives.  They  took  me  with 
them  to  their  camp-fire,  where  they  fed  me  on  a 
wonderful  mess  of  rabbits  boiled  with  herbs.  The 
men  had  bread.  One  of  them  had  cider.  Our  feast 
there  was  most  pleasant ;  or  would  have  been,  had  not 
the  talk  of  these  deserters  been  so  melancholy.  They 
were  flying  to  their  homes  like  hunted  animals,  after  a 
fortnight  of  misery  which  had  altered  their  faces  for- 
ever. They  had  been  in  battle;  they  had  retreated 
through  mud;  they  had  seen  all  the  ill-fortune  of  war. 
They  did  all  that  they  could  to  keep  me  from  my  pur- 
pose; but  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  rejoin  my  master; 
I  was  not  to  be  moved.  Before  settling  down  to  sleep 
for  the  night  I  helped  the  men  to  set  wires  for  rabbits, 
an  art  which  I  had  not  understood  till  then,  but  highly 
useful  to  a  lad  so  fated  to  adventurous  living  as  myself. 
We  slept  hi  various  parts  of  the  spinney,  wherever  there 
was  good  shelter;  but  we  were  all  so  full  of  jangling 
nerves  that  our  sleep  was  most  uneasy.  We  woke  very 
early,  visited  our  wires,  then  breakfasted  heartily  on 
the  night's  take.  The  men  insisted  on  giving  me  a 
day's  provision  to  take  with  me,  which  I  took,  though 
grudgingly,  for  they  had  none  too  much  for  themselves, 
poor  fellows.  Just  before  we  parted  I  wrote  a  note 
to  Sir  Travers,  on  a  leaf  of  my  pocket-book.  "  Dear 
Sir  Travers,"  I  wrote,  "These  men  are  ^well-known  to 


290  MARTIN  HYDE 

me  as  honest  subjects.  They  have  had  great  troubles 
on  their  road.  I  hope  that  you  will  help  them  to  get 
home.  Please  remember  me  very  kindly  to  your  niece." 
After  folding  this  very  neatly  I  gave  the  precious  piece 
of  impudence  to  one  of  the  men.  "  There,"  I  said, 
"  if  you  are  stopped,  insist  on  being  carried  before 
Sir  Travers.  He  knows  me.  I  am  sure  that  he  will 
help  you  as  far  as  he  can."  For  this  the  men  thanked 
me  humbly.  I  learned,  too,  that  it  was  of  service  to 
them.  It  saved  them  all  from  arrest  later  in  the  same 
day. 

Having  bidden  my  hosts  farewell,  I  wandered  on, 
keeping  pretty  well  in  cover.  I  saw  a  patrol  of  the 
King's  dragoons  in  one  of  the  roads  near  which  I  walked. 
The  nets  were  fast  closing  in  on  my  master:  there  were 
soldiers  coming  upon  him  from  every  quarter  save  the 
west,  which  was  blocked  too,  as  it  happened,  by  ships 
of  war  in  the  Channel.  This  particular  patrol  of  dragoons 
caught  sight  of  me.  I  saw  a  soldier  looking  over  a  gate  at 
me ;  but  as  I  was  only  a  boy,  seemingly  out  for  birdsnests, 
he  did  not  challenge  me,  so  that  by  noon  I  was  safe  in 
Taunton.  I  have  no  clear  memory  of  Taunton,  except 
that  it  was  full  of  people,  mostly  women.  There  were 
little  crowds  in  the  streets,  little  crowds  of  women, 
surrounding  muddy,  tired  men  who  had  come  in  from 
the  Duke.  People  were  going  about  in  a  hurried,  aimless 
way  which  showed  that  they  were  scared.  Many  houses 
were  shut  up.  Many  men  were  working  on  the  city 


FREE  291 

walls,  trying  to  make  the  place  defensible.  If  ever  a 
town  had  the  fear  of  death  upon  it  that  town  was 
Taunton,  then.  As  far  as  I  could  make  out  it  was  not 
the  actual  war  that  it  feared;  though  that  it  feared 
pretty  strongly,  as  the  looks  on  the  women's  faces 
showed.  It  feared  that  the  Duke's  army  would  come 
back  to  camp  there,  to  eat  them  all  up,  every  penny, 
every  blade  of  corn,  like  an  army  of  locusts.  Sometimes, 
while  I  was  there,  men  galloped  in  with  news,  generally 
false,  like  most  war-news,  but  eagerly  sought  for  by 
those  who  even  now  saw  their  husbands  shot  dead  in 
ranks  by  the  fierce  red-coats  under  their  drunken  Dutch 
general.  Sometimes  the  news  was  that  the  army  was 
pressing  in  to  cut  off  the  Duke  from  Taunton;  that  the 
dragoons  were  shooting  people  on  the  road;  that  they 
were  going  to  root  out  the  whole  population  without 
mercy.  At  another  time  news  came  that  Monmouth 
was  marching  in  to  music,  determined  to  hold  Taunton 
till  the  town  was  a  heap  of  cinders.  Then  one,  bloody 
with  his  spurred  horse's  gore,  cried  aloud  that  the 
King  was  dead,  shot  in  the  heart  by  one  of  his  brother's 
servants.  Then  another  came  calling  all  to  prayer. 
All  this  uproar  caused  a  hurrying  from  one  crowd  to 
another.  Here  a  man  preached  fervently  to  a  crowd  of 
enthusiasts.  Here  men  ran  from  a  prayer-meeting  to 
crowd  about  a  messenger.  Bells  jangled  from  the 
churches;  the  noise  of  the  picks  never  ceased  in  the 
trenches;  the  taverns  were  full;  the  streets  swarmed; 


292  MARTIN  HYDE 

the  public  places  were  now  thronged,  now  suddenly 
empty.  Here  came  the  aldermen  in  their  robes,  scared 
faces  among  the  scarlet,  followed  by  a  mob  praying  for 
news,  asking  in  frenzy  for  something  certain,  however 
terrible.  There  several  in  a  body  clamoured  at  a  citizen's 
door  in  the  like  fever  of  doubt.  There  was  enough 
agony  of  mind  in  Taunton  that  day  to  furnish  out  any 
company  of  tragedians.  We  English,  an  emotional 
people  by  nature,  are  best  when  the  blow  has  fallen. 
We  bear  neither  doubt  nor  rapture  wisely.  Our  strength 
is  shown  in  troublous  times  in  which  other  people  give 
way  to  despair. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   END 

AMONG  all  the  confusion,  I  learned  certainly  from 
some  deserters  that  the  Duke  was  at  Bridgewater, 
waiting  till  his  men  had  rested,  before  trying  to  break 
through  to  the  north,  to  his  friends  in  Chester.  He  had 
won  a  bad  name  for  himself  among  his  friends.  Nobody 
praised  him.  The  Taunton  people,  who  had  given  him 
such  a  splendid  welcome  ten  days  before,  now  cursed 
him  for  having  failed;  they  knew  too  well  what  sort 
of  punishment  was  sure  to  fall  upon  them,  directly  the 
fighting  came  to  an  end.  Somehow  all  their  despairing 
talk  failed  to  frighten  me.  I  was  not  scared  by  all  the 
signs  of  panic  in  the  streets.  I  was  too  young  to  under- 
stand fully;  but  besides  that  I  was  buoyed  up  by  the 
belief  that  I  had  done  a  fine  thing  in  escaping  from  prison 
in  order  to  serve  the  cause  dear  to  my  heart.  My  heart 
told  me  that  I  was  going  to  a  glorious  victory  in  the 
right  cause.  I  cannot  explain  it.  I  felt  my  father  in 
my  heart  urging  me  to  go  forward.  I  would  not  have 
drawn  back  for  all  the  King's  captains  in  a  company 
riding  out  against  me  together.  I  felt  that  these  people 
were  behaving  absurdly;  they  should  keep  a  brave 


294  MARTIN  HYDE 

patient  face  against  their  troubles.  Tomorrow  or  the 
next  day  would  see  us  in  triumph,  beating  our  enemies 
back  to  London,  to  the  usurper's  den  in  Whitehall. 

It  drew  towards  sunset  before  I  had  found  a  means  to 
get  to  Bridgewater.  The  innkeepers  who  in  times  of 
peace  sent  daily  carriers  thither,  with  whom  a  man  could 
travel  in  comfort  for  a  few  pence,  had  now  either  lost 
their  horses,  or  feared  to  risk  them.  No  carriers  had 
gone  either  to  Bridgewater  or  to  Bristol  since  the  Duke 
marched  in  on  the  fourth  day  of  his  journey;  nor  had 
the  carriers  come  in  as  usual  from  those  places;  the 
business  of  the  town  was  at  a  standstill.  I  asked  at 
several  inns,  but  this  was  the  account  given  to  me. 
There  was  no  safety  on  the  roads.  The  country  was 
overrun  by  thieves,  who  stole  horses  in  the  name  of  the 
Duke  or  of  the  King;  nothing  was  safe  anywhere. 
The  general  hope  of  the  people  was  for  Monmouth  to  be 
beaten  soon,  or  to  be  victorious  soon.  They  had  lost 
quite  enough  by  him ;  they  wanted  the  rebellion  over. 

At  last,  just  when  I  had  begun  to  think  the  thing 
hopeless,  I  found  an  honest  Quaker  about  to  ride  to 
Bridgewater  with  a  basket  of  Bibles  for  the  Duke's 
men.  He  did  not  ask  me  what  my  business  at  Bridge- 
water  might  be;  but  he  knew  that  no  one  would  want 
to  go  there  at  such  a  time  without  good  cause.  "  Well," 
he  said,  "  if  you  can  ride  small,  you  shall  ride  behind  me, 
but  it  will  be  slow  riding,  as  the  horse  will  be  heavily 
laden."  He  was  going  to  start  at  eight  o'clock,  so  as 


THE  END  295 

to  travel  all  night,  when  the  marauders,  whether  deserters 
from  the  Duke  or  ill-conditioned  country  people,  were 
always  less  busy.  I  had  time  to  get  some  supper  for 
myself  in  the  tavern-bar  before  starting.  Just  as  we 
were  about  to  ride  off  together,  when  we  were  in  the 
saddle,  waiting  only  till  some  carts  rolled  past  the  yard- 
door,  I  had  a  fright,  for  there,  coming  into  the  inn  yard, 
was  one  of  the  troopers  who  had  beguiled  me  from  the 
Duke's  army  that  day  at  Axminster.  I  had  no  doubt 
that  he  was  going  from  inn  to  inn,  asking  for  news  of  me. 
We  began  to  move  through  the  yard  as  he  came  towards 
us;  the  clack  of  the  horse's  feet  upon  the  cobbles  made 
him  look  up;  but  though  he  stared  at  me  hard,  he  did 
so  with  an  occupied  mind;  he  was  in  such  a  brown  study 
(as  it  is  called)  that  he  never  recognized  me.  A  minute 
later,  we  were  riding  out  of  town  past  the  trench- 
labourers,  my  heart  going  pit-a-pat  from  the  excitement 
of  my  narrow  escape.  I  dared  not  ask  the  Quaker  to 
go  fast,  lest  he  should  worm  my  story  from  me,  but  for 
the  first  three  miles  I  assure  you  I  found  it  hard  not 
to  prod  that  old  nag  with  my  knife  to  make  him  quicken 
his  two  mile  an  hour  crawl.  Often  during  the  first  hours 
of  the  ride  I  heard  horses  coming  after  us  at  a  gallop. 
It  was  all  fancy;  we  were  left  to  our  own  devices.  My 
pursuers,  I  found,  afterwards,  were  misled  by  the  lies 
of  the  landlord  at  the  inn  we  had  left.  We  were  being 
searched  for  in  Taunton  all  that  fatal  night,  by  half  a 
dozen  of  the  Carew  servants. 


296  MARTIN  HYDE 

Bridgewater  had  not  gone  to  bed  when  we  got  there. 
The  people  were  out  in  the  streets,  talking  in  frightened 
clumps,  expecting  something.  After  thanking  the 
Quaker  for  his  kindness  in  giving  me  a  lift  I  asked  at 
one  of  these  clumps  where  I  could  find  the  Duke.  I 
was  feeling  so  happy  at  the  thought  of  rejoining  my 
master,  after  all  my  adventures,  that  I  think  I  never 
felt  so  happy. 

"  Where  can  I  find  the  Duke?  "  I  asked.  "  I'm  his 
servant,  I  must  find  him." 

"  Find  him,"  said  one  of  the  talkers.  "  He's  not  here. 
He's  marched  out,  sir,  with  all  his  army,  over  to  Sedge- 
moor  to  fight  the  King's  army.  It's  a  night  attack, 
sir." 

I  was  bitterly  disappointed  at  not  having  reached  my 
journey's  end;  but  there  was  a  stir  in  the  thought  of 
battle.  I  asked  by  which  road  I  could  get  to  the 
place  where  the  battle  would  be.  The  man  told  me 
to  turn  to  the  right  after  crossing  the  river.  "  But," 
said  he,  "  you  don't  want  to  get  mixed  up  in  the 
fighting,  master.  There  be  thousands  out  there 
on  the  moor.  A  boy  would  be  nowhere  among  all 
them." 

"  Yes,"  said  another.  "  Better  stay  here,  sir.  If  the 
Duke  wins  he'll  be  back  afore  breakfast.  If  he  gets 
beat,  you'd  be  best  out  of  the  way." 

This  was  sound  advice;  but  I  was  not  in  a  mood  to 
profit  by  it.  Something  told  me  that  the  battle  was  to 


THE  END  297 

be  a  victory  for  us;  so  I  thanked  the  men,  telling  them 
that  I  would  go  out  over  the  moor  by  the  road  they  had 
mentioned.  As  I  moved  away,  they  called  out  to  me  to 
mind  myself,  for  the  King's  dragoons  were  on  the  moor, 
as  a  sort  of  screen  in  front  of  their  camp.  By  the  road 
they  had  mentioned  I  might  very  well  get  into  the 
King's  camp  without  seeing  anything  of  my  master.  One 
of  them  added  that  the  battle  would  begin,  or  might 
begin,  long  before  I  got  there,  "  if  the  mist  don't  lead 
en  astray,  like." 

It  took  me  some  few  minutes  to  get  out  of  the 
gates  across  the  river;  for  there  was  a  press  of  people 
crowded  there.  It  was  as  dark  as  a  summer  night 
ever  is,  that  is,  a  sort  of  twilight,  when  I  passed 
through,  but  just  at  the  gates  were  two  great  torches 
stuck  into  rings  in  the  wall.  The  wind  made  their 
flames  waver  about  uncertainly,  so  that  sometimes  you 
could  see  particular  faces  in  the  crowd,  all  lit  in  muddy 
gold  light  for  an  instant,  before  the  wavering  made  them 
dark  again.  Several  mounted  men  were  there,  trying 
to  pass.  Among  them,  in  one  sudden  glare,  I  saw 
Aurelia  on  her  Arab,  reined  in  beside  Sir  Travers, 
whose  horse  was  kicking  out  behind  him.  I  passed 
them  by  so  close  that  I-  touched  Aurelia's  riding  habit 
as  I  crept  out  of  the  press.  They  were  talking  together, 
just  behind  me,  as  I  crept  from  the  town  over  the  bridge 
above  which  the  summer  mists  clung,  almost  hiding  the 
stream.  Aurelia  was  saying  "I  only  hope  we  may  be 


298  MARTIN  HYDE 

in  time."  "  Yes,  poor  boy,"  said  Sir  Travers.  "  It  will 
be  terrible  if  we  are  too  late."  It  gave  me  a  pang  to 
hear  them,  for  I  knew  that  they  were  talking  about 
me. 

I  crept  into  the  shelter  of  the  bridge  parapet  while 
they  rode  on  past  me.  The  mist  hid  them  from  me.  The 
town  was  dark  above  the  mist  like  a  city  in  the  clouds. 
The  stars  were  dim  now  with  the  coming  of  day.  A  sheep- 
bell  on  the  moor  made  a  noise  like  a  night-bird.  A  few 
ponies  pastured  on  the  moor  trotted  away,  lightly 
padding,  scared,  I  suppose,  by  the  two  riders.  Then, 
far  away,  but  sounding  very  near  at  hand,  for  sound 
travels  very  strangely  in  mist,  so  strangely  that  often 
a  very  distant  noise  will  strike  loudly,  while  it  is 
scarcely  heard  close  to,  there  came  a  shot.  Almost 
instantly,  the  air  seemed  full  of  the  roar  of  battle. 
The  gun-fire  broke  out  into  a  long  irregular  roar,  a 
fury  of  noise  which  roused  up  the  city  behind  me,  as 
though  all  the  citizens  were  slamming  their  doors  to 
get  away  from  it.  I  hurried  along  the  road  towards  the 
battle,  praying,  as  I  went,  that  my  master  might  conquer, 
that  the  King's  troops  had  been  caught  asleep,  that 
when  I  got  there,  in  the  glory  of  dawn,  I  might  find  the 
Duke's  army  returning  thanks  in  their  enemy's  camp. 
I  pressed  on  along  the  rough  moor  road  until  the  dawn 
came  over  the  far  horizon,  driving  the  mists  away,  so 
that  I  could  see  what  was  doing  there. 

I  saw  a  great  sweep  of  moorland  to  my  left,  with  a 


THE  END  299 

confused  crowd  of  horsemen  scattering  away  towards 
a  line  of  low  hills  some  miles  beyond.  They  were  riding 
from  the  firing,  which  filled  all  the  nearer  part  of  the 
moor  with  smoke,  among  which  I  saw  moving  figures, 
sudden  glimpses  of  men  in  rank,  sudden  men  on  horse- 
back, struggling  with  their  horses.  The  noise  was  worse 
than  I  had  expected;  it  came  on  me  with  repeated 
deafening  shocks.  I  could  hear  cries  in  the  lulls  when  the 
firing  slackened;  then  the  uproar  grew  worse  again, 
full  of  desperate  thuds,  marking  cannon  shot.  I  heard 
balls  going  over  my  head  with  a  shrill  "  wheep,  wheep," 
which  made  me  duck.  A  small  iron  cannon  ball  spun 
into  the  road  like  a  spinning  top,  scattering  the  dust. 
It  wormed  slowly  past  me  for  a  second,  then  rose  up 
irregularly  in  a  bound,  to  thud  into  the  ditch,  where  it 
lay  still.  I  saw  cannon  coming  up  at  a  gallop,  with 
many  horses,  on  the  bare  right  flank  of  the  battle. 
Another  ball  came  just  over  my  head,  with  a  scream 
which  made  my  heart  quite  sick.  I  sat  down  cowering 
under  a  ruined  thorn-tree  by  the  road,  crying  like  a  little 
child.  It  must  have  been  a  moment  after  that  when 
I  saw  a  man  staggering  down  the  road  towards  me, 
holding  his  side  with  both  hands.  He  fell  into  the  road, 
dead,  not  far  from  me.  Then  others  came  past,  some 
so  fearfully  hurt  that  it  was  a  miracle  that  they  should 
walk.  They  came  past  in  a  long  horrible  procession, 
men  without  weapons,  without  hands,  shot  in  the  head, 
in  the  body,  lacerated,  bleeding,  limping,  with  white 


300  MARTIN  HYDE 

drawn  faces,  tottering  to  the  town  which  they  would 
never  see  again.  I  shut  my  eyes,  crouching  well  under 
the  tree,  while  this  fight  went  on.  It  was  nothing 
but  a  time  of  pain,  a  roaring,  booming  horror  with 
shrieks  in  it.  I  don't  know  how  long  it  lasted.  I 
only  know  that  the  shooting  seemed  suddenly  to 
pass  into  a  thunder  of  horse-hoofs  as  the  King's 
dragoons  came  past  in  a  charge.  Right  in  front  of  me 
they  galloped,  hacking  at  the  fleers,  leaning  out  from 
their  saddles  to  cut  at  them,  leaning  down  to  stab 
them,  rising  up  to  reach  at  those  who  climbed  the  banks. 
Under  that  tide  of  cavalry  the  Duke's  army  melted. 
They  fought  in  clumps  desperately.  They  flung  away 
their  weapons.  They  fled.  They  rushed  down  des- 
perately to  meet  death.  It  was  all  a  medley  of  broken 
noises,  oaths,  stray  shots,  cries,  wounded  men  whimper- 
ing, hurt  horses  screaming.  The  horses  were  the 
worst  part  of  it.  Perhaps  you  never  heard  a  horse 
scream. 

That  morning's  work  is  all  very  confused  to  me.  I 
remember  seeing  men  cut  down  as  they  ran.  I  remember 
a  fine  horse  coming  past  me  lurching,  clattering  his 
stirrups,  before  leaping  into  the  river.  I  remember 
the  stink  of  powder  over  all  the  field;  the  strange  look 
on  the  faces  of  the  dead;  the  body  of  a  trumpeter, 
kneeling  against  a  gorse-bush,  shot  through  the  heart, 
with  his  trumpet  raised  to  his  lips,  the  litter  every- 
where, burnt  cartridges,  clothes,  belts,  shot,  all  the 


THE  END  301 

waste  of  war.  They  are  in  my  mind,  those  memories, 
like  scattered  pictures.  The  next  clear  memory  in  my 
mind,  is  of  a  company  of  cavalry  in  red  coats,  under  a 
fierce,  white-faced  man,  bringing  in  a  string  of  prisoners 
to  the  King's  camp.  A  couple  of  troopers  jumped  down 
to  examine  me.  One  had  the  face  of  a  savage;  the  other 
was  half  drunk.  "  You're  one  of  them,"  they  said. 
"  Bring  him  on."  They  twisted  string  about  my  thumbs. 
I  was  their  prisoner.  They  dragged  me  into  the  King's 
camp,  where  the  white-faced  man  sat  down  at  a  table 
to  judge  us. 

I  will  not  talk  of  that  butchery.  The  white-faced 
man  has  been  judged  now,  in  his  turn;  I  will  say  no 
more  of  him.  When  it  came  to  my  turn,  he  would  hear 
no  words  from  me;  I  was  a  rebel,  fit  for  nothing  but 
death.  "  Pistol  him  "  was  all  the  sentence  passed  on 
me.  The  soldiers  laid  hands  on  me  to  drag  me  away, 
to  add  my  little  corpse  to  the  heap  outside.  One  of  the 
officers  spoke  up  for  me.  "  He's  only  a  boy,"  he  said. 
"  Go  easy  with  the  boy.  Don't  have  the  poor  child 
killed."  It  was  kindly  spoken;  but  quite  carelessly. 
The  man  would  have  pleaded  for  a  cat  with  just  as 
much  passion.  It  was  useless,  any  way,  for  the  colonel 
merely  repeated  "  Pistol  him,"  just  as  one  would  have 
ordered  a  wine  at  dinner.  "  Burgundy."  "  No,  the 
Burgundy  here  is  all  so  expensive."  "  Never  mind, 
Burgundy."  So  I  was  led  away  to  stand  with  the  next 
batch  of  prisoners  lined  against  a  wall  to  be  shot.  My 


302  MARTIN  HYDE 

place  was  at  the  end  of  a  line,  next  to  a  young  sullen- 
looking  man  black  with  powder.  I  did  not  feel  fright- 
ened, only  hopeless,  quite  hopeless,  a  sort  of  dead 
feeling.  I  remember  looking  at  the  soldiers  getting 
ready  to  shoot  us.  I  wondered  which  would  shoot  me. 
They  seemed  so  slow  about  it.  There  was  some  hitch, 
I  think,  in  filling  up  the  line;  a  man  had  proved  his 
innocence  or  something. 

Then,  the  next  instant,  there  was  Aurelia  dragging  the 
white-faced  man  from  his  table.  I  dimly  remember  him 
ordering  me  to  be  released,  while  Sir  Travers  Carew 
gave  me  brandy.  I  remember  the  young  sullen-looking 
man's  face ;  for  he  looked  at  me,  a  look  of  dull  wonder, 
with  a  sort  of  hopeless  envy  in  it,  which  has  wrung  my 
heart  daily,  ever  since.  "  Mount,"  said  Aurelia. 
"  Mount,  Martin.  For  God's  sake,  Uncle  Travers,  let 
us  get  out  of  this."  They  were  on  both  sides  of  me,  each 
giving  me  an  arm  in  the  saddle,  as  we  rode  out  of  that 
field  of  death  through  Zoyland  village  towards  the  old 
Abbey  near  Chard. 

I  shall  say  little  more,  except  that  I  never  saw  my 
master  again.  When  they  led  him  to  the  scaffold  on 
Tower  Hill  I  was  outward  bound  to  the  West  Indies, 
as  private  secretary  to  Sir  Travers,  newly  appointed 
Governor  of  St.  Eulalie.  We  had  many  of  Monmouth's 
men  in  St.  Eulalie  after  the  Bloody  Assizes;  but  their 
tale  is  too  horrible  to  tell  here.  You  will  want  to  know 
whether  I  ever  saw  Aurelia  again.  Not  for  some  years, 


MY    PLACE    WAS    AT    THE    END    OF    A    LINE. 


Page  302 


THE  END  303 

not  very  often  for  nine  years;  but  since  then  our  lives 
have  been  so  mingled  that  when  we  die  it  will  be  hard 
to  say,  which  soul  is  which,  so  much  our  spirits  are 
each  other's.  So  now,  I  have  written  a  long  story. 
May  we  all  tell  our  tales  to  the  end  before  the  pen  is 
taken  from  us. 


THE  END. 


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—  n*  j     

W  '•  *!„ 

t 

HIM  1  0  1QA1 

UUI^f    IT?    Iv^i 

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